The  Life  of  the  Bee 

BY 

MAURICE  MAETERLINCK 


Translated  bj 
ALFRED   SUTRO 


BLUE    RIBBON    BOOKS 
NEW   YORK 


Copyright,  IQOI 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPAHY 

All  rights  reserved 


PRINTED  IN  U.  S.  A. 

PRINTED  BY  THE  CORNWALL  PRESS,  INC. 
CORNWALL,  N.  Y. 


Contents 

PAG* 

I.  ON  THE  THRESHOLD  OF  THE  HIVE  3 

II.  THE  SWARM 37 

cja           III.  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  THE  CITY    .  131 
IV.  THE  LIFE  OF  THE  BEE    .     .     .     .159 

V.  THE  YOUNG  QUEENS      ....  233 
<c 

VI.  THE  NUPTIAL  FLIGHT    ....  295 

r 

VII.  THE  MASSACRE  OF  THE  MALES      .  347 
i 

j       VIII.  THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  RACE.  .     .  363 


APPENDIX  423 


244888 


ON   THE   THRESHOLD  OF 
THE   HIVE 


I 

ON  THE   THRESHOLD   OF 
THE   HIVE 


IT  is  not  my  intention  to  write  a  trea- 
tise on  apiculture,  or  on  practical 
bee-keeping.  Excellent  works  of  the 
kind  abound  in  all  civilised  countries, 
and  it  were  useless  to  attempt  another. 
France  has  those  of  Dadant,  Georges  de 
Layens  and  Bonnier,  Bertrand,  Hamet, 
Weber,  Clement,  the  Abbe  Collin,  etc. 
English-speaking  countries  have  Langs- 
troth,  Bevan,  Cook,  Cheshire,  Cowan, 
Root,  etc.  Germany  has  Dzierzon,  Van 
Berlespoch,  Pollmann,  Vogel,  and  many 
others. 

3 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

Nor  is  this  book  to  be  a  scientific 
monograph  on  Apis  Mellifica,  Ligustica, 
Fasciata,  Dorsata,  etc.,  or  a  collection  of 
new  observations  and  studies.  I  shall 
say  scarcely  anything  that  those  will  not 
know  who  are  somewhat  familiar  with 
bees.  The  notes  and  experiments  I  have 
made  during  my  twenty  years  of  bee- 
keeping I  shall  reserve  for  a  more  techni- 
cal work;  for  their  interest  is  necessarily 
of  a  special  and  limited  nature,  and  I 
am  anxious  not  to  over-burden  this 
essay.  I  wish  to  speak  of  the  bees  very 
simply,  as  one  speaks  of  a  subject  one 
knows  and  loves  to  those  who  know 
it  not.  I  do  not  intend  to  adorn  the 
truth,  or  merit  the  just  reproach  Reaumur 
addressed  to  his  predecessors  in  the  study 
of  our  honey-flies,  whom  he  accused  of 
substituting  for  the  marvellous  reality 
marvels  that  were  imaginary  and  merely 
plausible.  The  fact  that-  the  hive  con- 
.4 


CXi  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

tains  so  much  that  is  wonderful  does 
not  warrant  our  seeking  to  add  to  its 
wonders.  Besides,  I  myself  have  now  foi 
a  long  time  ceased  to  look  for  anything 
more  beautiful  in  this  world,  or  more 
interesting,  than  the  truth;  or  at  least 
than  the  effort  one  is  able  to  make 
towards  the  truth.  I  shall  state  nothing, 
therefore,  that  I  have  not  verified  myself, 
or  that  is  not  so  fully  accepted  in  the 
text-books  as  to  render  further  verifica- 
tion superfluous.  My  facts  shall  be  as 
accurate  as  though  they  appeared  in  a 
practical  manual  or  scientific  monograph, 
but  I  shall  relate  them  in  a  somewhat 
livelier  fashion  than  such  works  would 
allow,  shall  group  them  more  harmoni- 
ously together,  and  blend  them  with 
freer  and  more  mature  reflections.  The 
reader  of  this  book  will  not  learn  there- 
from how  to  manage  a  hive ;  but  he  wilJ 
know  more  or  less  all  that  can  with  any 
5 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

certainty  be  known  of  the  curious,  pro- 
found, and  intimate  side  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. Nor  will  this  be  at  the  cost  of 
what  still  remains  to  be  learned.  I  shall 
pass  over  in  silence  the  hoary  traditions 
that,  in  the  country  and  many  a  book, 
still  constitute  the  legend  of  the  hive. 
Whenever  there  be  doubt,  disagreement, 
hypothesis,  when  I  arrive  at  the  unknown, 
I  shall  declare  it  loyally;  you  will  find 
that  we  often  shall  halt  before  the  un- 
known. Beyond  the  appreciable  facts 
of  their  life  we  know  but  little  of  the 
bees.  And  the  closer  our  acquaintance 
becomes,  the  nearer  is  our  ignorance 
brought  to  us  of  the  depths  of  their  real 
existence ;  but  such  ignorance  is  better 
than  the  other  kind,  which  is  uncon- 
scious, and  satisfied. 

Does  an  analogous  work  on   the    bee 
exist  ?     I  believe  I  have  read  almost  all 
that   has  been  written  on    bees;  but   of 
6 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

kindred  matter  I  know  only  Michelet's 
chapter  at  the  end  of  his  book  "  The 
Insect,"  and  Ludwig  Biichner's  essay  in 
his  "Mind  in  Animals."  Michelet  merely 
hovers  on  the  fringe  of  his  subject ;  Biicta 
ner's  treatise  is  comprehensive  enough, 
but  contains  so  many  hazardous  state/ 
ments,  so  much  long-discarded  gossip 
and  hearsay,  that  I  suspect  him  of  never 
having  left  his  library,  never  having  set 
forth  himself  to  question  his  heroines, 
or  opened  one  of  the  many  hundreds  of 
rustling,  wing-lit  hives  which  we  must 
profane  before  our  instinct  can  be  attuned 
to  their  secret,  before  we  can  perceive  the 
spirit  and  atmosphere,  perfume  and  mys- 
tery, of  these  virgin  daughters  of  toil. 
The  book  smells  not  of  the  bee,  or  its 
honey  ;  and  has  the  defects  of  many  a 
learned  work,  whose  conclusions  often 
are  preconceived,  and  whose  scientific  at- 
tainment is  composed  of  a  vast  array  of 
7 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

doubtful  anecdotes  collected  on  every 
side.  But  in  this  essay  of  mine  we  rarely 
shall  meet  each  other  ;  for  our  starting- 
point,  our  aim,  and  our  point  of  view 
are  all  very  different. 


The  bibliography  of  the  bee  (we  will 
begin  with  the  books  so  as  to  get  rid 
of  them  as  soon  as  we  can  and  go  to 
the  source  of  the  books)  is  very  exten- 
sive. From  the  beginning  this  strange 
little  creature,  that  lived  in  a  society 
under  complicated  laws  and  executed 
prodigious  labours  in  the  darkness,  at- 
tracted the  notice  of  men.  Aristotle, 
Cato,  Varro,  Pliny,  Columella,  Palladius 
all  studied  the  bees  ;  to  say  nothing  of 
Aristomachus,  who,  according  to  Cicero, 
watched  them  for  fifty-eight  years,  and  of 
Phyliscus,  whose  writings  are  lost.  But 
these  dealt  rather  with  the  legend  of  the 
S 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

bee  ;  and  all  that  we  can  gather  there- 
from —  which  indeed  is  exceedingly  little 
—  we  may  find  condensed  in  the  fourth 
book  of  Virgil's  Georgics. 

The  real  history  of  the  bee  begins  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  with  the  discov- 
eries of  the  great  Dutch  savant  Swammer- 
dam.  It  is  well,  however,  to  add  this 
detail,  but  little  known :  before  Swam- 
merdam  a  Flemish  naturalist  named 
Clutius  had  arrived  at  certain  important 
truths,  such  as  the  sole  maternity  of  the 
queen  and  her  possession  of  the  attributes 
of  both  sexes,  but  he  had  left  these  un- 
proved. Swammerdam  founded  the  true 
methods  of  scientific  investigation ;  he 
invented  the  microscope,  contrived  injec- 
tions to  ward  off  decay,  was  the  first  to 
dissect  the  bees,  and  by  the  discovery  of 
the  ovaries  and  the  oviduct  definitely  fixed 
the  sex  of  the  queen,  hitherto  looked 
upon  as  a  king,  and  threw  the  •  whole 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

political  scheme  of  the  hive  into  most 
unexpected  light  by  basing  it  upon  mater- 
nity. Finally  he  produced  woodcuts  and 
engravings  so  perfect  that  to  this  day  they 
serve  to  illustrate  many  books  on  apicul- 
ture. He  lived  in  the  turbulent,  restless 
Amsterdam  of  those  days,  regretting 
"  Het  Zoete  Buiten  Leve"  —  The  Sweet 
Life  of  the  Country  —  and  died,  worn- 
out  with  work,  at  the  age  of  forty-three. 
He  wrote  in  a  pious,  formal  style,  with 
beautiful,  simple  outbursts  of  a  faith  that, 
fearful  of  falling  away,  ascribed  all  things 
to  the  glory  of  the  Creator ;  and  em- 
bodied his  observations  and  studies  in  his 
great  work  "Bybel  der  Natuure,"  which 
the  doctor  Boerhave,  a  century  later, 
caused  to  be  translated  from  the  Dutch 
into  Latin  under  the  title  of  "  Biblia 
Naturae."  (Leyden,  1737.) 

Then  came   Reaumur,  who,   pursuing 
similar  methods,  made  a  vast  number  of 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

curious  experiments  and  researches  in  his 
gardens  at  Charenton,  and  devoted  to  the 
bees  an  entire  volume  of  his  "  Notes  to 
Serve  for  a  History  of  Insects."  One 
may  read  it  with  profit  to-day,  and  with- 
out fatigue.  It  is  clear,  direct,  and  sin- 
cere, and  possessed  of  a  certain  hard,  arid 
charm  of  its  own.  He  sought  especially 
the  destruction  of  ancient  errors ;  he  him- 
self was  responsible  for  several  new  ones ; 
he  partially  understood  the  formation  of 
swarms  and  the  political  establishment 
of  queens ;  in  a  word,  he  discovered 
many  difficult  truths,  and  paved  the  way 
for  the  discovery  of  more.  He  fully 
appreciated  the  marvellous  architecture 
of  the  hive;  and  what  he  said  on  the 
subject  has  never  been  better  said.  It  is 
to  him,  too,  that  we  owe  the  idea  of  the 
glass  hives,  which,  having  since  been 
perfected,  enable  us  to  follow  the  entire 
private  life  of  these  fierce  insects,  whose 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

work,  begun  in  the  dazzling  sunshine, 
receives  its  crown  in  the  darkness.  To 
be  comprehensive,  one  should  mention 
also  the  somewhat  subsequent  works  and 
investigations  of  Charles  Bonnet  and 
Schirach  (who  solved  the  enigma  of  the 
royal  egg) ;  but  I  will  keep  to  the  broad 
lines,  and  pass  at  once  to  Francois  Huber, 
the  master  and  classic  of  contemporary 
apiarian  science. 

Huber  was  born  in  Geneva  in  1750, 
and  fell  blind  in  his  earliest  youth.  The 
experiments  of  Reaumur  interested  him ; 
he  sought  to  verify  them,  and  soon  be- 
coming passionately  absorbed  in  these 
researches,  eventually,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  an  intelligent  and  faithful  servant, 
Fran9ois  Burnens,  devoted  his  entire  life 
to  the  study  of  the  bee.  In  the  annals 
of  human  suffering  and  human  triumph 
there  is  nothing  more  touching,  no  lesson 
more  admirable,  than  the  story  of  this 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

patient  collaboration,  wherein  the  one 
who  saw  only  with  immaterial  light 
guided  with  his  spirit  the  eyes  and  hands 
of  the  other  who  had  the  real  earthly 
vision  ;  where  he  who,  as  we  are  assured, 
had  never  with  his  own  eyes  beheld  a 
comb  of  honey,  was  yet  able,  notwith- 
standing the  veil  on  his  dead  eyes  that 
rendered  double  the  veil  in  which  nature 
enwraps  all  things,  to  penetrate  the  pro- 
found secrets  of  the  genius  that  had  made 
this  invisible  comb  ;  as  though  to  teach 
us  that  no  condition  in  life  can  warrant 
our  abandoning  our  desire  and  search  for 
the  truth.  I  will  not  enumerate  all  that 
apiarian  science  owes  to  Huber ;  to  state 
what  it  does  not  owe  were  the  briefer 
task.  His  "  New  Observations  on  Bees," 
of  which  the  first  volume  was  written  in 
1789,  in  the  form  of  letters  to  Charles 
Bonnet,  the  second  not  appearing  till 
twenty  years  later,  have  remained  the 
'3 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

unfailing,  abundant  treasure  into  which 
every  subsequent  writer  has  dipped.  And 
though  a  few  mistakes  may  be  found 
therein,  a  few  incomplete  truths ;  though 
since  his  time  considerable  additions  have 
been  made  to  the  micrography  and  prac- 
tical culture  of  bees,  the  handling  of 
queens,  etc.,  there  is  not  a  single  one  of 
his  principal  statements  that  has  been 
disproved,  or  discovered  in  error;  and 
in  our  actual  experience  they  stand 
untouched,  and  indeed  at  its  very 
foundation. 

[3] 

Some  years  of  silence  followed  these 
revelations;  but  soon  a  German  clergy- 
man, Dzierzon,  discovered  parthenogene- 
sis, /'.  e.  the  virginal  parturition  of  queens, 
and  contrived  the  first  hive  with  movable 
combs,  thereby  enabling  the  bee-keeper 
henceforth  to  take  his  share  of  the  harvest 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

of  honey,  without  being  forced  to  destroy 
his  best  colonies  and  in  one  instant 
annihilate  the  work  of  an  entire  year. 
This  hive,  still  very  imperfect,  received 
masterly  improvement  at  the  hands  of 
Langstroth,  who  invented  the  movable 
frame  properly  so  called,  which  has  been 
adopted  in  America  with  extraordinary  suc- 
cess. Root,  Quinby,  Dadant,  Cheshire, 
De  Layens,  Cowan,  Heddon,  Howard, 
etc.,  added  still  further  and  precious  im- 
provement. Then  it  occurred  to  Mehring 
that  if  bees  were  supplied  with  combs 
that  had  an  artificial  waxen  foundation, 
they  would  be  spared  the  labour  of 
fashioning  the  wax  and  constructing  the 
cells,  which  costs  them  much  honey  and 
the  best  part  of  their  time  ;  he  found  that 
the  bees  accepted  these  combs  most 
readily,  and  adapted  them  to  their 
requirements. 

M aj or  deHruschka  invented  the  Honey- 
is 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

Extractor,  which  enables  the  honey  to  be 
withdrawn  by  centrifugal  force  without 
breaking  the  combs,  etc.  And  thus,  in  a 
few  years,  the  methods  of  apiculture 
underwent  a  radical  change.  The  capac- 
ity and  fruitfulness  of  the  hives  were 
trebled.  Great  and  productive  apiaries 
arose  on  every  side.  An  end  was  put 
to  the  useless  destruction  of  the  most 
industrious  cities,  and  to  the  odious  selec- 
tion of  the  least  fit  which  was  its  result. 
Man  truly  became  the  master  of  the 
bees,  although  furtively,  and  without  their 
knowledge;  directing  all  things  without 
giving  an  order,  receiving  obedience  but 
not  recognition.  For  the  destiny  once 
imposed  by  the  seasons  he  has  substituted 
his  will.  He  repairs  the  injustice  of  the 
year,  unites  hostile  republics,  and  equal- 
ises wealth.  He  restricts  or  augments 
the  births,  regulates  the  fecundity  of  the 
queen,  dethrones  her  and  instals  another 
16 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

n  her  place,  after  dexterously  obtaining 
the  reluctant  consent  of  a  people  who 
would  be  maddened  at  the  mere  suspicion 
of  an  inconceivable  intervention.  When 
he  thinks  fit,  he  will  peacefully  violate 
the  secret  of  the  sacred  chambers,  and  the 
elaborate,  tortuous  policy  of  the  palace. 
He  will  five  or  six  times  in  succession  de- 
prive the  bees  of  the  fruit  of  their  labour, 
without  harming  them,  without  their  be- 
coming discouraged  or  even  impoverished. 
He  proportions  the  store-houses  and 
granaries  of  their  dwellings  to  the  harvest 
of  flowers  that  the  spring  is  spreading 
over  the  dip  of  the  hills.  He  compels 
them  to  reduce  the  extravagant  number 
of  lovers  who  await  the  birth  of  the  royal 
princesses.  In  a  word  he  does  with  them 
what  he  will,  he  obtains  what  he  will,  pro- 
vided always  that  what  he  seeks  be  in  ac- 
cordance with  their  laws  and  their  virtues ; 
for  beyond  all  the  desires  of  this  strange 
3  17 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 
god  who  has  taken  possession  of  them, 
who  is  too  vast  to  be  seen  and  too  alien 
to  be  understood,  their  eyes  see  further 
than  the  eyes  of  the  god  himself;  and 
their  one  thought  is  the  accomplishment, 
with  untiring  sacrifice,  of  the  mysterious 
duty  of  their  race. 

[4] 

Let  us  now,  having  learned  from  books 
all  that  they  had  to  teach  us  of  a  very 
ancient  history,  leave  the  science  others 
have  acquired  and  look  at  the  bees  with 
our  own  eyes.  An  hour  spent  in  the 
midst  of  the  apiary  will  be  less  instruc- 
tive, perhaps ;  but  the  things  we  shall  see 
will  be  infinitely  more  stimulating  and 
more  actual. 

I  have  not  yet  forgotten  the  first  apiary 

I  saw,  where  I  learned  to  love  the  bees. 

It  was  many  years  ago,  in  a  large  village 

of  Dutch  Flanders,  the  sweet  and  pleasant 

tt 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

country  whose  love  for  brilliant  colour 
rivals  that  of  Zealand  even,  the  concave 
mirror  of  Holland;  a  country  that  gladly 
spreads  out  before  us,  as  so  many  pretty, 
thoughtful  toys,  her  illuminated  gables, 
and  waggons,  and  towers ;  her  cupboards 
and  clocks  that  gleam  at  the  end  of  the 
passage;  her  little  trees  marshalled  in  line 
along  quays  and  canal-banks,  waiting,  one 
almost  might  think,  for  some  quiet,  benef- 
icent ceremony;  her  boats  and  her  barges 
with  sculptured  poops,  her  flower-like 
doors  and  windows,  immaculate  dams, 
and  elaborate,  many-coloured  drawbridges ; 
and  her  little  varnished  houses,  bright  as 
new  pottery,  from  which  bell-shaped 
dames  come  forth,  all  a-glitter  with  silver 
and  gold,  to  milk  the  cows  in  the  white- 
hedged  fields,  or  spread  the  linen  on 
flowery  lawns,  cut  into  patterns  of  oval 
and  lozenge,  and  most  astoundingly 
green. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

To  this  spot,  where  life  would  seem 
more  restricted  than  elsewhere  —  if  it  be 
possible  for  life  indeed  to  become  re- 
stricted —  a  sort  of  aged  philosopher  had 
retired ;  an  old  man  somewhat  akin  to 
Virgil's  — 

'«  Man  equal  to  kings,  and  approaching  the  gods  ;  " 

whereto  Lafontaine  might  have  added,  — - 
"  And,  like  the  gods,  content  and  at  rest." 

Here  had  he  built  his  refuge,  being  a 
little  weary;  not  disgusted,  for  the  large 
aversions  are  unknown  to  the  sage ;  but  a 
little  weary  of  interrogating  men,  whose 
answers  to  the  only  interesting  questions 
one  can  put  concerning  nature  and  her 
veritable  laws  are  far  less  simple  than 
those  that  are  given  by  animals  and 
plants.  His  happiness,  like  the  Scythian 
philosopher's,  lay  all  in  the  beauties  of 
his  garden;  and  best-loved  and  visited 
most  often,  was  the  apiary,  composed  of 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

twelve  domes  of  straw,  some  of  which  he 
had  painted  a  bright  pink,  and  some  a 
clear  yellow,  but  most  of  all  a  tender 
blue ;  having  noticed,  long  before  Sir 
John  Lubbock's  demonstrations,  the  bees' 
fondness  for  this  colour. 

These  hives  stood  against  the  wall  of 
the  house,  in  the  angle  formed  by  one  of 
those  pleasant  and  graceful  Dutch  kit- 
chens whose  earthenware  dresser,  all  bright 
with  copper  and  tin,  reflected  itself  through 
the  open  door  on  to  the  peaceful  canal. 
And  the  water,  burdened  with  these  fami- 
liar images  beneath  its  curtain  of  poplars, 
led  one's  eyes  to  a  calm  horizon  of  mills 
and  of  meadows. 

Here,  as  in  all  places,  the  hives  lent  a 
new  meaning  to  the  flowers  and  the  silence, 
the  balm  of  the  air  and  the  rays  of  the 
sun.  One  seemed  to  have  drawn  very 
near  to  the  festival  spirit  of  nature.  One 
was  content  to  rest  at  this  radiant  cross- 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

road,  where  the  aerial  ways  converge  and 
divide  that  the  busy  and  tuneful  bearers 
of  all  country  perfumes  unceasingly  travel 
from  dawn  unto  dusk.  One  heard  the 
musical  voice  of  the  garden,  whose  love- 
liest hours  revealed  their  rejoicing  soul 
and  sang  of  their  gladness.  One  came 
hither,  to  the  school  of  the  bees,  to  be 
taught  the  preoccupations  of  all-powerful 
nature,  the  harmonious  concord  of  the 
three  kingdoms,  the  indefatigable  organi- 
sation of  life,  and  the  lesson  of  ardent  and 
disinterested  work;  and  another  lesson 
too,  with  a  moral  as  good,  that  the  heroic 
workers  taught  there,  and  emphasised,  as 
it  were,  with  the  fiery  darts  of  their 
myriad  wings,  was  to  appreciate  the 
somewhat  vague  savour  of  leisure,  to 
enjoy  the  almost  unspeakable  delights 
of  those  immaculate  days  that  revolved 
on  themselves  in  the  fields  of  space, 
forming  merely  a  transparent  globe,  as 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

void  of  memory  as  the  happiness  with- 
out alloy. 

m 

In  order  to  follow,  as  simply  as  possible, 
the  life  of  the  bees  through  the  year,  we 
will  take  a  hive  that  awakes  in  the  spring 
and  duly  starts  on  its  labours ;  and  then 
we  shall  meet,  in  their  natural  order,  all 
the  great  episodes,  viz. :  the  formation 
and  departure  of  the  swarm,  the  founda- 
tion of  the  new  city,  the  birth,  combat 
and  nuptial  flight  of  the  young  queens,  the 
massacre  of  the  males,  and  finally,  the 
return  of  the  sleep  of  winter.  With  each 
of  these  episodes  there  will  go  the  neces- 
sary explanations  as  to  the  laws,  habits, 
peculiarities  and  events  that  produce  and 
accompany  it;  so  that,  when  arrived  at 
the  end  of  the  bee's  short  year,  which 
extends  only  from  April  to  the  last  days 
of  September,  we  shall  have  gazed  upea 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

all  the  mysteries  of  the  palace  of  honey. 
Before  we  open  it,  therefore,  and  throw  a 
general  glance  around,  we  only  need  say 
that  the  hive  is  composed  of  a  queen,  the 
mother  of  all  her  people ;  of  thousands 
of  workers  or  neuters  who  are  incomplete 
and  sterile  females  ;  and  lastly  of  some 
hundreds  of  males,  from  whom  one  shall 
be  chosen  as  the  sole  and  unfortunate 
consort  of  the  queen  that  the  workers 
will  elect  in  the  future,  after  the  more  or 
less  voluntary  departure  of  the  reigning 
mother. 

[6] 

The  first  time  that  we  open  a  hive  there 
comes  over  us  an  emotion  akin  to  that  we 
might  feel  at  profaning  some  unknown 
object,  charged  perhaps  with  dreadful 
surprise,  as  a  tomb.  A  legend  of  menace 
and  peril  still  clings  to  the  beos.  There 
is  the  distressful  recollection  of  her  sting, 
24 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

which  produces  a  pain  so  characteristic  that 
one  knows  not  wherewith  to  compare  it ; 
a  kind  of  destroying  dryness,  a  flame  of 
the  desert  rushing  over  the  wounded  limb, 
as  though  these  daughters  of  the  sun  had 
distilled  a  dazzling  poison  from  their 
father's  angry  rays,  in  order  more  effec- 
tively to  defend  the  treasure  they  gather 
from  his  beneficent  hours. 

It  is  true  that  were  some  one  who  neither 
knows  nor  respects  the  customs  and  char- 
acter of  the  bee  suddenly  to  fling  open 
the  hive,  it  would  turn  at  once  into  a 
burning  bush  of  heroism  and  anger ;  but 
the  slight  amount  of  skill  needed  to 
handle  it  with  impunity  can  be  most 
readily  acquired.  Let  but  a  little  smoke 
be  deftly  applied,  much  coolness  and 
gentleness  be  shown,  and  our  well-armed 
workers  will  suffer  themselves  to  be 
despoiled  without  dreaming  of  drawing 
their  sting.  It  is  not  the  fact,  as  some 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

have  maintained,  that  the  bees  recognise 
their  master ;  nor  have  they  any  fear  of 
man  ;  but  at  the  smell  of  the  smoke,  at 
the  large  slow  gestures  that  traverse  their 
dwellings  without  threatening  them,  they 
imagine  that  this  is  not  the  attack  of  an 
enemy  against  whom  defence  is  pos- 
sible, but  that  it  is  a  force  or  a  natural 
catastrophe  whereto  they  do  well  to 
submit. 

Instead  of  vainly  struggling,  therefore, 
they  do  what  they  can  to  safeguard  the 
future ;  and,  obeying  a  foresight  that  for 
once  is  in  error,  they  fly  to  their  reserves 
of  honey,  into  which  they  eagerly  dip  in 
order  to  possess  within  themselves  the 
wherewithal  to  start  a  new  city,  immedi- 
ately and  no  matter  where,  should  the 
ancient  one  be  destroyed  or  they  be 
compelled  to  forsake  it. 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

[7]  ' 

The  first  impression  of  the  novice 
before  whom  an  observation-hive  *  is 
opened  will  be  one  of  some  disappoint- 
ment. He  had  been  told  that  this  little 
glass  case  contained  an  unparalleled  activ- 
ity, an  infinite  number  of  wise  laws, 
and  a  startling  amalgam  of  mystery,  ex- 
perience, genius,  calculation,  science,  of 
various  industries,  of  certitude  and  pre- 
science, of  intelligent  habits  and  curious 
feelings  and  virtues.  All  that  he  sees  is 
a  confused  mass  of  little  reddish  groups 

1  By  observation-hive  is  meant  a  hive  of  glass, 
furnished  with  black  curtains  or  shutters.  The  best 
kind  have  only  one  comb,  thus  permitting  both  faces 
to  be  studied.  These  hives  can  be  placed  in  a  draw- 
ing-room, library,  etc.,  without  inconvenience  or  dan- 
ger. The  bees  that  inhabit  the  one  I  have  in  my 
study  in  Paris  are  able  even  in  the  stony  desert  of  that 
great  city,  to  find  the  wherewithal  to  nourish  them- 
selves and  to  prosper. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

somewhat  resembling  roasted  coffee-ber- 
ries, or  bunches  of  raisins  piled  against 
the  glass.  They  look  more  dead  than 
alive;  their  movements  are  slow,  inco- 
herent, and  incomprehensible.  Can  these 
be  the  wonderful  drops  of  light  he  had 
seen  but  a  moment  ago,  unceasingly  flash- 
ing and  sparkling,  as  they  darted  among 
the  pearls  and  the  gold  of  a  thousand 
wide-open  calyces  ? 

They  appear  to  be  shivering  in  the 
darkness,  to  be  numbed,  suffocated,  so 
closely  are  they  huddled  together;  one 
might  fancy  they  were  ailing  captives,  of 
queens  dethroned,  who  have  had  their 
one  moment  of  glory  in  the  midst  of 
their  radiant  garden,  and  are  now  com- 
pelled to  return  to  the  shameful  squalor 
of  their  poor  overcrowded  home. 

It  is  with  them  as  with  all  that  is 
deeply  real ;  they  must  be  studied,  and 
one  must  learn  how  to  study  them.  The 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

inhabitant  of  another  planet  who  should 
see  men  and  women  coming  and  going 
almost  imperceptibly  through  our  streets, 
crowding  at  certain  times  around  certain 
buildings,  or  waiting  for  one  knows 
not  what,  without  apparent  movement, 
in  the  depths  of  their  dwellings,  might 
conclude  therefrom  that  they,  too,  were 
miserable  and  inert.  It  takes  time  to 
distinguish  the  manifold  activity  con- 
tained in  this  inertia. 

And  indeed  every  one  of  the  little 
almost  motionless  groups  in  the  hive  is 
incessantly  working,  each  at  a  different 
trade.  Repose  is  unknown  to  any  ;  and 
such,  for  instance,  as  seem  the  most  tor- 
pid, as  they  hang  in  dead  clusters  against 
the  glass,  are  intrusted  with  the  most 
mysterious  and  fatiguing  task  of  all :  it  is 
they  who  secrete  and  form  the  wax.  But 
the  details  of  this  universal  activity  will 
be  given  in  their  place.  For  the  mo- 
29 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ment  we  need  only  call  attention  to 
the  essential  trait  in  the  nature  of  the 
bee  which  accounts  for  the  extraordinary 
agglomeration  of  the  various  workers. 
The  bee  is  above  all,  and  even  to  a 
greater  extent  than  the  ant,  a  creature 
of  the  crowd.  She  can  live  only  in  the 
midst  of  a  multitude.  When  she  leaves 
the  hive,  which  is  so  densely  packed  that 
she  has  to  force  her  way  with  blows  of 
her  head  through  the  living  walls  that 
enclose  her,  she  departs  from  her  proper 
element.  She  will  dive  for  an  instant 
into  flower-filled  space,  as  the  swimmer 
will  dive  into  the  sea  that  is  filled  with 
pearls,  but  under  pain  of  death  it 
behoves  her  at  regular  intervals  to  re- 
turn and  breathe  the  crowd  as  the  swim- 
mer must  return  aud  breathe  the  air. 
Isolate  her,  and  however  abundant  the 
food  or  favourable  the  temperature,  she 
mil  expire  in  a  few  days  not  of  hunger 
30 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

or  cold,  but  of  loneliness.  From  the 
crowd,  from  the  city,  she  derives  an 
invisible  aliment  that  is  as  necessary 
to  her  as  honey.  This  craving  will 
help  to  explain  the  spirit  of  the  laws  of 
the  hive.  For  in  them  the  individual  is 
nothing,  her  existence  conditional  only, 
and  herself,  for  one  indifferent  moment, 
a  winged  organ  of  the  race.  Her  whole 
life  is  an  entire  sacrifice  to  the  manifold, 
everlasting  being  whereof  she  forms  part. 
It  is  strange  to  note  that  it  was  not  always 
so.  We  find  even  to-day,  among  the 
melliferous  hymenoptera,  all  the  stages 
of  progressive  civilisation  of  our  own  do- 
mestic bee.  At  the  bottom  of  the  scale 
we  find  her  working  alone,  in  wretched- 
ness, often  not  seeing  her  offspring  (the 
Prosopis,  the  Colletes,  etc.) ;  sometimes 
living  in  the  midst  of  the  limited 
family  that  she  produces  annually  (as  in 
the  case  of  the  humble-bee).  Then  she 
3' 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

forms  temporary  associations  (the  Pan- 
urgi,  the  Dasypodoe,  the  Hacliti,  etc.) 
and  at  last  we  arrive,  through  successive 
stages,  at  the  almost  perfect  but  pitiless 
society  of  our  hives,  where  the  individual 
is  entirely  merged  in  the  republic,  and 
the  republic  in  its  turn  invariably  sacri- 
ficed to  the  abstract  and  immortal  city  of 
the  future. 


Let  us  not  too  hastily  deduce  from 
these  facts  conclusions  that  apply  to  man. 
He  possesses  the  power  of  withstanding 
certain  of  nature's  laws  ;  and  to  know 
whether  such  resistance  be  right  or  wrong 
is  the  gravest  and  obscurest  point  in  his 
morality.  But  it  is  deeply  interesting 
to  discover  what  the  will  of  nature  may 
be  in  a  different  world  ;  and  this  will 
is  revealed  with  extraordinary  clearness  in 
the  evolution  of  the  hymenoptera.  which, 


On  the  Threshold  of  the  Hive 

of  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  globe,  possess 
the  highest  degree  of  intellect  after  that 
of  man.  The  aim  of  nature  is  manifestly 
the  improvement  of  the  race ;  but  no 
less  manifest  is  her  inability,  or  refusal, 
to  obtain  such  improvement  except  at 
the  cost  of  the  liberty,  the  rights,  and 
the  happiness  of  the  individual.  In 
proportion  as  a  society  organises  itself, 
and  rises  in  the  scale,  so  does  a  shrinkage 
enter  the  private  life  of  each  one  of  its 
members.  Where  there  is  progress,  it 
is  the  result  only  of  a  more  and  more 
complete  sacrifice  of  the  individual  to 
the  general  interest.  Each  one  is  com- 
pelled, first  of  all,  to  renounce  his  vices, 
which  are  acts  of  independence.  For 
instance,  at  the  last  stage  but  one  of 
apiarian  civilisation,  we  find  the  humble- 
bees,  which  are  like  our  cannibals.  The 
adult  workers  are  incessantly  hovering 
around  the  eggs,  which  they  seek  to 

3  33 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

devour,  and  the  mother  has  to  display 
the  utmost  stubbornness  in  their  defence. 
Then  having  freed  himself  from  his  most 
dangerous  vices,  each  individual  has  to 
acquire  a  certain  number  of  more  and 
more  painful  virtues.  Among  the  humble- 
bees,  for  instance,  the  workers  do  not 
dream  of  renouncing  love,  whereas  our 
domestic  bee  lives  in  a  state  of  perpetual 
chastity.  And  indeed  we  soon  shall  show 
how  much  more  she  has  to  abandon,  in 
exchange  for  the  comfort  and  security  of 
the  hive,  for  its  architectural,  economic, 
and  political  perfection  ;  and  we  shall  re- 
turn to  the  evolution  of  the  hymenoptera 
in  the  chapter  devoted  to  the  progress  of 
the  species. 


II 

THE   SWARM 


II 

THE   SWARM 

[9] 

WE  will  now,  so  as  to  draw  more 
closely  to  nature,  consider  the 
different  episodes  of  the  swarm  as  they 
come  to  pass  in  an  ordinary  hive,  which 
is  ten  or  twenty  times  more  populous 
than  an  observation  one,  and  leaves  the 
bees  entirely  free  and  untrammelled. 

Here,  then,  they  have  shaken  off  the 
torpor  of  winter.  The  queen  started 
laying  again  in  the  very  first  days  of 
February,  and  the  workers  have  flocked 
to  the  willows  and  nut-trees,  gorse  and 
violets,  anemones  and  lungworts.  Then 
spring  invades  the  earth,  and  cellar  and 
stream  with  honey  and  pollen,  while  each 
37 


244868 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

day  beholds  the  birth  of  thousands  of 
bees.  The  overgrown  males  now  all  sally 
forth  from  their  cells,  and  disport  them- 
selves on  the  combs ;  and  so  crowded 
does  the  too  prosperous  city  become  that 
hundreds  of  belated  workers,  coming  back 
from  the  flowers  towards  evening,  will 
vainly  seek  shelter  within,  and  will  be 
forced  to  spend  the  night  on  the  threshold, 
where  they  will  be  decimated  by  the  cold. 
Restlessness  seizes  the  people,  and  the 
old  queen  begins  to  stir.  She  feels 
that  a  new  destiny  is  being  prepared. 
She  has  religiously  fulfilled  her  duty  as  a 
good  creatress ;  and  from  this  duty  done 
there  result  only  tribulation  and  sorrow. 
An  invincible  power  menaces  her  tran- 
quillity ;  she  will  soon  be  forced  to  quit 
this  city  of  hers,  where  she  has  reigned. 
But  this  city  is  her  work,  it  is  she,  her- 
self. She  is  not  its  queen  in  the  sense  in 
which  men  use  the  word.  She  issues  no 
tf 


The  Swarm 

orders ;  she  obeys,  as  meekly  as  the 
humblest  of  her  subjects,  the  masked 
power,  sovereignly  wise,  that  for  the 
present,  and  till  we  attempt  to  locate  it, 
we  will  term  the  "  spirit  of  the  hive." 
But  she  is  the  unique  organ  of  love ;  she 
is  the  mother  of  the  city.  She  founded 
it  amid  uncertainty  and  poverty.  She 
has  peopled  it  with  her  own  substance; 
and  all  who  move  within  its  walls  — 
workers,  males,  larvae,  nymphs,  and  the 
young  princesses  whose  approaching  birth 
will  hasten  her  own  departure,  one  of 
them  being  already  designed  as  her  suc- 
cessor by  the  "spirit  of  the  hive"  — 
all  these  have  issued  from  her  flanks. 

[10] 

What  is  this  "spirit  of  the  hive"  — 
where  does  it  reside?  It  is  not  like  the 
special  instinct  that  teaches  the  bird  to 
construct  its  well  planned  nest,  and  then 

39 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

seek  other  skies  when  the  day  for  mi- 
gration returns.  Nor  is  it  a  kind  of 
mechanical  habit  of  the  race,  or  blind 
craving  for  life,  that  will  fling  the  bees 
upon  any  wild  hazard  the  moment  an 
unforeseen  event  shall  derange  the  accus- 
tomed order  of  phenomena.  On  the 
contrary,  be  the  event  never  so  masterful, 
the  "spirit  of  the  hive"  still  will  follow 
it,  step  by  step,  like  an  alert  and  quick- 
witted slave,  who  is  able  to  derive  ad- 
vantage even  from  his  master's  most 
dangerous  orders. 

It  disposes  pitilessly  of  the  wealth  and 
the  happiness,  the  liberty  and  life,  of  all 
this  winged  people ;  and  yet  with  discre- 
tion, as  though  governed  itself  by  some 
great  duty.  It  regulates  day  by  day  the 
number  of  births,  and  contrives  that  these 
shall  strictly  accord  with  the  number  of 
flowers  that  brighten  the  country-side, 
It  decrees  the  queen's  deposition  or  warn* 
40 


The  Swarm 

her  that  she  must  depart ;  it  compels  her 
to  bring  her  own  rivals  into  the  world, 
and  rears  them  royally,  protecting  them 
from  their  mother's  political  hatred.  So, 
too,  in  accordance  with  the  generosity  of 
the  flowers,  the  age  of  the  spring,  and 
the  probable  dangers  of  the  nuptial  flight, 
will  it  permit  or  forbid  the  first-born 
of  the  virgin  princesses  to  slay  in  their 
cradles  her  younger  sisters,  who  are  sing- 
ing the  song  of  the  queens.  At  other 
times,  when  the  season  wanes,  and  flowery 
hours  grow  shorter,  it  will  command  the 
workers  themselves  to  slaughter  the  whole 
imperial  brood,  that  the  era  of  revolutions 
may  close,  and  work  become  the  sole 
object  of  all.  The  "  spirit  of  the  hive  " 
is  prudent  and  thrifty,  but  by  no  means 
parsimonious.  And  thus,  aware,  it  would 
seem,  that  nature's  laws  are  somewhat 
wild  and  extravagant  in  all  that  pertains 
to  love,  it  tolerates,  during  summer  day? 

41 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

of  abundance,  the  embarrassing  presence 
in  the  hive  of  three  or  four  hundred 
males,  from  whose  ranks  the  queen  about 
to  be  born  shall  select  her  lover ;  three 
or  four  hundred  foolish,  clumsy,  useless, 
noisy  creatures,  who  are  pretentious,  glut- 
tonous, dirty,  coarse,  totally  and  scan- 
dalously idle,  insatiable,  and  enormous. 

But  after  the  queen's  impregnation, 
when  flowers  begin  to  close  sooner,  and 
open  later,  the  spirit  one  morning  will 
coldly  decree  the  simultaneous  and  gen- 
eral massacre  of  every  male.  It  regulates 
the  workers'  labours,  with  due  regard  to 
their  age ;  it  allots  their  task  to  the  nurses 
who  tend  the  nymphs  and  the  larvae,  the 
ladies  of  honour  who  wait  on  the  queen 
and  never  allow  her  out  of  their  sight ; 
the  house-bees  who  air,  refresh,  or  heat 
the  hive  by  fanning  their  wings,  and 
hasten  the  evaporation  of  the  honey  that 
may  be  too  highly  charged  with  water; 
42 


The  Swarm 

the  architects,  masons,  wax-workers,  and 
sculptors  who  form  the  chain  and  con- 
struct the  combs;  the  foragers  who  sally 
forth  to  the  flowers  in  search  of  the  nectar 
that  turns  into  honey,  of  the  pollen  that 
feeds  the  nymphs  and  the  larvae,  the  pro- 
polis that  welds  and  strengthens  the  build- 
ings of  the  city,  or  the  water  and  salt 
required  by  the  youth  of  the  nation.  Its 
orders  have  gone  to  the  chemists  who  en- 
sure the  preservation  of  the  honey  by 
letting  a  drop  of  formic  acid  fall  in  from 
the  end  of  their  sting ;  to  the  capsule- 
makers  who  seal  down  the  cells  when  the 
treasure  is  ripe,  to  the  sweepers  who 
maintain  public  places  and  streets  most 
irreproachably  clean,  to  the  bearers  whose 
duty  it  is  to  remove  the  corpses ;  and 
to  the  amazons  of  the  guard  who  keep 
watch  on  the  threshold  by  night  and  by 
day,  question  comers  and  goers,  recognise 
the  novices  who  return  from  their  very 
H 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

first  flight,  scare  away  vagabonds,  ma- 
rauders and  loiterers,  expel  all  intruders, 
attack  redoubtable  foes  in  a  body,  and,  if 
need  be,  barricade  the  entrance. 

Finally,  it  is  the  spirit  of  the  hive  that 
fixes  the  hour  of  the  great  annual  sacrifice 
to  the  genius  of  the  race :  the  hour,  that 
is,  of  the  swarm  ;  when  we  find  a  whole 
people,  who  have  attained  the  topmost  pin- 
nacle of  prosperity  and  power,  suddenly 
abandoning  to  the  generation  to  come 
their  wealth  and  their  palaces,  their  homes 
and  the  fruits  of  their  labour  ;  themselves 
content  to  encounter  the  hardships  and 
perils  of  a  new  and  distant  country.  This 
act,  be  it  conscious  or  not,  undoubtedly 
passes  the  limits  of  human  morality. 
Its  result  will  sometimes  be  ruin,  but 
poverty  always;  and  the  thrice-happy 
city  is  scattered  abroad  in  obedience  to 
a  law  superior  to  its  own  happiness. 
Where  has  this  law  been  decreed,  which, 


The  Swarm 

as  we  soon  shall  find,  is  by  no  means  as 
blind  and  inevitable  as  one  might  believe? 
Where,  in  what  assembly,  what  council, 
what  intellectual  and  moral  sphere,  does 
this  spirit  reside  to  whom  all  must  submit, 
itself  being  vassal  to  an  heroic  duty,  to 
an  intelligence  whose  eyes  are  persistently 
fixed  on  the  future  ? 

It  comes  to  pass  with  the  bees  as  with 
most  of  the  things  in  this  world;  we 
remark  some  few  of  their  habits ;  we 
say  they  do  this,  they  work  in  such  and 
such  fashion,  their  queens  are  born  thus, 
their  workers  are  virgin,  they  swarm  at 
a  certain  time.  And  then  we  imagine 
we  know  them,  and  ask  nothing  more. 
We  watch  them  hasten  from  flower  to 
flower,  we  see  the  constant  agitation  within 
the  hive  ;  their  life  seems  very  simple  to 
us,  and  bounded,  like  every  life,  by  the 
instinctive  cares  of  reproduction  and  nour- 
ishment But  let  the  eye  draw  near,  and 
45 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

endeavour  to  see  ;  and  at  once  the  least 
phenomenon  of  all  becomes  overpower- 
ingly  complex  ;  we  are  confronted  by  the 
enigma  of  intellect,  of  destiny,  will,  aim, 
means,  causes  ;  the  incomprehensible  or- 
ganisation of  the  most  insignificant  act 
of  life. 


Our  hive,  then,  is  preparing  to  swarm  ; 
making  ready  for  the  great  immolation  to 
the  exacting  gods  of  the  race.  In  obe^ 
dience  to  the  order  of  the  spirit  —  an  order 
that  to  us  may  well  seem  incomprehen- 
sible, for  it  is  entirely  opposed  to  all  our 
own  instincts  and  feelings  —  60,000  or 
70,000  bees  out  of  the  80,000  or  90,000 
that  form  the  whole  population,  will  aban- 
don the  maternal  city  at  the  prescribed 
hour.  They  will  not  leave  at  a  moment 
of  despair  ;  or  desert,  with  sudden  and 
wild  resolve,  a  home  laid  waste  by  famine* 
46 


The  Swarm 

disease,  or  war.  No,  the  exile  has  long 
been  planned,  and  the  favourable  hour 
patiently  awaited.  Were  the  hive  poor, 
had  it  suffered  from  pillage  or  storm,  had 
misfortune  befallen  the  royal  family,  the 
bees  would  not  forsake  it.  They  leave  it 
only  when  it  has  attained  the  apogee  of 
its  prosperity ;  at  a  time  when,  after  the 
arduous  labours  of  the  spring,  the  im- 
mense palace  of  wax  has  its  120,000  well- 
arranged  cells  overflowing  with  new  honey, 
and  with  the  many-coloured  flour,  known 
as  "bees'  bread,"  on  which  nymphs  and 
larvae  are  fed. 

Never  is  the  hive  more  beautiful  than 
on  the  eve  of  its  heroic  renouncement,  in 
its  unrivalled  hour  of  fullest  abundance 
and  joy;  serene  for  all  its  apparent  excite- 
ment and  feverishness. 

Let  us  endeavour  to  picture  it  to  our- 
selves, not  as  it  appears  to  the  bees,  —  for 
we  cannot  tell  in  what  magical,  formidable 
4? 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

fashion  things  may  be  reflected  in  the 
6,000  or  7,000  facets  of  their  lateral  eyes 
and  the  triple  cyclopean  eye  on  their  brow, 
—  but  as  it  would  seem  to  us,  were  we  of 
their  stature.  From  the  height  of  a  dome 
more  colossal  than  that  of  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome  waxen  walls  descend  to  the  ground, 
balanced  in  the  void  and  the  darkness ; 
gigantic  and  manifold,  vertical  and  parallel 
geometric  constructions,  to  which,  for  rela- 
tive precision,  audacity,  and  vastness,  no 
human  structure  is  comparable.  Each  of 
these  walls,  whose  substance  still  is  immac- 
ulate and  fragrant,  of  virginal,  silvery  fresh- 
ness, contains  thousands  of  cells,  that  are 
stored  with  provisions  sufficient  to  feed  the 
whole  people  for  several  weeks.  Here, 
lodged  in  transparent  cells,  are  the  pollens, 
love-ferment  of  every  flower  of  spring, 
making  brilliant  splashes  of  red  and  yellow, 
of  black  and  mauve.  Close  by,  in  twenty 
thousand  reservoirs,  sealed  with  a  sea] 
48 


The  Swarm 

that  shall  only  be  broken  on  days  of  su- 
preme distress,  the  honey  of  April  is 
stored,  most  limpid  and  perfumed  of  all, 
wrapped  round  with  long  and  magnificent 
embroidery  of  gold,  whose  borders  hang 
stiff  and  rigid.  Still  lower  the  honey  of 
May  matures,  in  great  open  vats,  by  whose 
side  watchful  cohorts  maintain  an  incessant 
current  of  air.  In  the  centre,  and  fai 
from  the  light  whose  diamond  rays  steai 
in  through  the  only  opening,  in  the 
warmest  part  of  the  hive,  there  stands  the 
abode  of  the  future ;  here  does  it  sleep, 
and  wake.  For  this  is  the  royal  domain 
of  the  brood-cells,  set  apart  for  the  queen 
and  her  acolytes ;  about  10,000  cells 
wherein  the  eggs  repose,  15,000  or  16,000 
chambers  tenanted  by  larvae,  40,000  dwel- 
lings inhabited  by  white  nymphs  to  whom 
thousands  of  nurses  minister.1  And  fin- 

1  The  figures  gi'in  here  are   scrupulously  exact. 
They  are  those  of  a  tvell-filled  hive  in  full  prosperity. 
4  49 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ally,  in  the  holy  of  holies  of  these  parts, 
are  the  three,  four,  six,  or  twelve  sealed 
palaces,  vast  in  size  compared  with  the 
others,  where  the  adolescent  princesses  lie 
who  await  their  hour,  wrapped  in  a  kind 
of  shroud,  all  of  them  motionless  and 
pale,  and  fed  in  the  darkness. 


On  the  day,  then,  that  the  Spirit  of  the 
Hive  has  ordained,  a  certain  part  of  the 
population  will  go  forth,  selected  in  ac- 
cordance with  sure  and  immovable  laws, 
and  make  way  for  hopes  that  as  yet  are 
formless.  In  the  sleeping  city  there 
remain  the  males,  from  whose  ranks  the 
royal  lover  shall  come,  the  very  young 
bees  that  tend  the  brood-cells,  and  some 
thousands  of  workers  who  continue  to 
forage  abroad,  to  guard  the  accumu- 
lated treasure,  and  preserve  the  moral 
traditions  of  the  hive.  For  each  hive 


The  Swarm 

has  its  own  code  of  morals.  There  are 
some  that  are  very  virtuous  and  some 
that  are  very  perverse;  and  a  careless 
bee-keeper  will  often  corrupt  his  people, 
destroy  their  respect  for  the  property 
of  others,  incite  them  to  pillage,  and 
induce  in  them  habits  of  conquest  and 
idleness  which  will  render  them  sources 
of  danger  to  all  the  little  republics  around. 
These  things  result  from  the  bee's  dis- 
covery that  work  among  distant  flowers, 
whereof  many  hundreds  must  be  visited  to 
form  one  drop  of  honey,  is  not  the  only 
or  promptest  method  of  acquiring  wealth, 
but  that  it  is  easier  to  enter  ill-guarded 
cities  by  stratagem,  or  force  her  way 
into  others  too  weak  for  self-defence. 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  restore  to  the  paths 
of  duty  a  hive  that  has  become  thus 
depraved. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 
t«3] 

All  things  go  to  prove  that  it  is  not 
the  queen,  but  the  spirit  of  the  hive, 
that  decides  on  the  swarm.  With  this 
queen  of  ours  it  happens  as  with  many 
a  chief  among  men,  who  though  he  ap- 
pear to  give  orders,  is  himself  obliged 
to  obey  commands  far  more  mysterious, 
far  more  inexplicable,  than  those  he 
issues  to  his  subordinates.  The  hour 
once  fixed,  the  spirit  will  probably  let 
it  be  known  at  break  of  dawn,  or  the 
previous  night,  if  indeed  not  two  nights 
before;  for  scarcely  has  the  sun  drunk 
in  the  first  drops  of  dew  when  a  most 
unaccustomed  stir,  whose  meaning  the 
bee-keeper  rarely  will  fail  to  grasp,  is 
to  be  noticed  within  and  around  the 
buzzing  city.  At  times  one  would  al- 
most appear  to  detect  a  sign  of  dispute, 
hesitation,  recoil.  It  will  happen  svec 
S* 


The  Swarm 

that  for  day  after  day  a  strange  emotion, 
apparently  without  cause,  will  appear  and 
vanish  in  this  transparent,  golden  throng. 
Has  a  cloud  that  we  cannot  see  crept 
across  the  sky  that  the  bees  are  watching ; 
or  is  their  intellect  battling  with  a  new 
regret?  Does  a  winged  council  debate 
the  necessity  of  the  departure  ?  Of  this 
we  know  nothing  ;  as  we  know  nothing 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  spirit  conveys 
its  resolution  to  the  crowd.  Certain  as 
it  may  seem  that  the  bees  communicate 
with  each  other,  we  know  not  whether 
this  be  done  in  human  fashion.  It  is 
possible  even  that  their  own  refrain  may 
be  inaudible  to  them  :  the  murmur  that 
comes  to  us  heavily  laden  with  perfume 
of  honey,  the  ecstatic  whisper  of  fairest 
summer  days  that  the  bee-keeper  loves  so 
well,  the  festival  song  of  labour  that  rises 
and  falls  around  the  hive  in  the  crystal 
of  the  hour,  and  might  almost  be  the 
53 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

chant  of  the  eager  flowers,  hymn  of  their 
gladness  and  echo  of  their  soft  fragrance, 
the  voice  of  the  white  carnations,  the 
marjoram,  and  the  thyme.  They  have, 
however,  a  whole  gamut  of  sounds  that 
we  can  distinguish,  ranging  from  pro- 
found delight  to  menace,  distress,  and 
anger ;  they  have  the  ode  of  the  queen, 
the  song  of  abundance,  the  psalms  of 
grief,  and,  lastly,  the  long  and  mysterious 
war-cries  the  adolescent  princesses  send 
forth  during  the  combats  and  massacres 
that  precede  the  nuptial  flight.  May  this 
be  a  fortuitous  music  that  fails  to  attain 
their  inward  silence  ?  In  any  event  they 
seem  not  the  least  disturbed  at  the  noises 
we  make  near  the  hive ;  but  they  regard 
these  perhaps  as  not  of  their  world,  and 
possessed  of  no  interest  for  them.  It  is 
possible  that  we  on  our  side  hear  only 
a  fractional  part  of  the  sounds  that  the 
bees  produce,  and  that  they  have  many 
54 


The  Swarm 

harmonies  to  which  our  ears  are  not 
attuned.  We  soon  shall  see  with  what 
startling  rapidity  they  are  able  to  under- 
stand each  other,  and  adopt  concerted 
measures,  when,  for  instance,  the  great 
honey  thief,  the  huge  sphinx  atropos,  the 
sinister  butterfly  that  bears  a  death's  head 
on  its  back,  penetrates  into  the  hive, 
humming  its  own  strange  note,  which  acts 
as  a  kind  of  irresistible  incantation;  the 
news  spreads  quickly  from  group  to  group, 
and  from  the  guards  at  the  threshold  to 
the  workers  on  the  furthest  combs,  the 
whole  population  quivers, 

[-4] 

It  was  for  a  long  time  believed  that 
when  these  wise  bees,  generally  so  pru- 
dent, so  far-sighted  and  economical,  aban- 
doned the  treasures  of  their  kingdom  and 
flung  themselves  upon  the  uncertainties 
of  life,  they  were  yielding  to  a  kind  of 
H 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

irresistible  folly,  a  mechanical  impulse,  a 
law  of  the  species,  a  decree  of  nature,  01 
to  the  force  that  for  all  creatures  lies  hid- 
den in  the  revolution  of  time.  It  is  oui 
habit,  in  the  case  of  the  bees  no  less  than 
our  own,  to  regard  as  fatality  all  that  we 
do  not  as  yet  understand.  But  now  that 
the  hive  has  surrendered  two  or  three  of 
its  material  secrets,  we  have  discovered 
that  this  exodus  is  neither  instinctive  nor 
inevitable.  It  is  not  a  blind  emigration, 
but  apparently  the  well-considered  sacrifice 
of  the  present  generation  in  favour  of  the 
generation  to  come.  The  bee-keeper  has 
only  to  destroy  in  their  cells  the  young 
queens  that  still  are  inert,  and,  at  the  same* 
time,  if  nymphs  and  larvae  abound,  to 
enlarge  the  store-houses  and  dormitories 
of  the  nation,  for  this  unprofitable  tumult 
instantaneously  to  subside,  for  work  to 
be  at  once  resumed,  and  the  flowers  re- 
visited ;  while  the  old  queen,  who  now  U 
56 


The  Swarm 

essential  again,  with  no  successor  to  hope 
for,  or  perhaps  to  fear,  will  renounce 
for  this  year  her  desire  for  the  light  of 
the  sun.  Reassured  as  to  the  future  of 
the  activity  that  will  soon  spring  into  life, 
she  will  tranquilly  resume  her  maternal 
labours,  which  consist  in  the  laying  of  two 
or  three  thousand  eggs  a  day,  as  she  passes, 
in  a  methodical  spiral,  from  cell  to  cell, 
omitting  none,  and  never  pausing  to 
rest. 

Where  is  the  fatality  here,  save  in  the 
love  of  the  race  of  to-day  for  the  race  of 
to-morrow?  This  fatality  exists  in  the 
human  species  also,  but  its  extent  and 
power  seem  infinitely  less.  Among  men 
it  never  gives  rise  to  sacrifices  as  great,  as 
unanimous,  or  as  complete.  What  far- 
seeing  fatality,  taking  the  place  of  this  one, 
do  we  ourselves  obey  ?  We  know  not ; 
as  we  know  not  the  being  who  watches  us 
as  we  watch  the  bees. 

57 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[-5] 

But  the  hive  that  we  have  selected  is 
disturbed  in  its  history  by  no  interference 
of  man  ;  and  as  the  beautiful  day  advances 
with  radiant  and  tranquil  steps  beneath 
the  trees,  its  ardour,  still  bathed  in  dew, 
makes  the  appointed  hour  seem  laggard. 
Over  the  whole  surface  of  the  golden  cor- 
ridors that  divide  the  parallel  walls  the 
workers  are  busily  making  preparation 
for  the  journey.  And  each  one  will  first 
of  all  burden  herself  with  provision  of 
honey  sufficient  for  five  or  six  days.  From 
this  honey  that  they  bear  within  them  they 
will  distil,  by  a  chemical  process  still  unex- 
plained, the  wax  required  for  the  immediate 
construction  of  buildings.  They  will  pro- 
vide themselves  also  with  a  certain  amount 
of  propolis,  a  kind  of  resin  with  which  they 
will  seal  all  the  crevices  in  the  new  dwell- 
ing, strengthen  weak  places,  varnish  the 
58 


The  Swarm 

walls,  and  exclude  the  light ;  for  the  bees 
iove  to  work  in  almost  total  obscurity, 
guiding  themselves  with  their  many-faceted 
eyes,  or  with  their  antennae  perhaps,  the 
seat,  it  would  seem,  of  an  unknown  sense 
that  fathoms  and  measures  the  darkness. 

C'6] 

They  are  not  without  prescience,  there- 
fore, of  what  is  to  befall  them  on  this  the 
most  dangerous  day  of  all  their  existence. 
Absorbed  by  the  cares,  the  prodigious 
perils  of  this  mighty  adventure,  they  will 
have  no  time  now  to  visit  the  gardens  and 
meadows;  and  to-morrow,  and  after  to- 
morrow, it  may  happen  that  rain  may  fall, 
or  there  may  be  wind ;  that  their  wings 
may  be  frozen  or  the  flowers  refuse  to 
open.  Famine  and  death  would  await 
them  were  it  not  for  this  foresight  of 
theirs.  None  would  come  to  their  help, 
nor  would  they  seek  help  of  any.  Foi 
S9 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

one  city  knows  not  the  other,  and  assist- 
ance never  is  given.  And  even  though 
the  bee-keeper  deposit  the  hive,  in  which 
he  has  gathered  the  old  queen  and  her 
attendant  cluster  of  bees,  by  the  side  of 
the  abode  they  have  but  this  moment 
quitted,  they  would  seem,  be  the  disaster 
never  so  great  that  shall  now  have  befallen 
them,  to  have  wholly  forgotten  the  peace 
and  the  happy  activity  that  once  they  had 
known  there,  the  abundant  wealth  and  the 
safety  that  had  then  been  their  portion ; 
and  all,  one  by  one,  and  down  to  the  last 
of  them,  will  perish  of  hunger  and  cold 
around  their  unfortunate  queen  rather 
than  return  to  the  home  of  their  birth, 
whose  sweet  odour  of  plenty,  the  fragrance, 
indeed,  of  their  own  past  assiduous  labour, 
reaches  them  even  in  their  distress. 


60 


The  Swarm 


That  is  a  thing,  some  will  say,  that 
men  would  not  do,  —  a  proof  that  the 
bee,  notwithstanding  the  marvels  of  its 
organisation,  still  is  lacking  in  intellect  and 
veritable  consciousness.  Is  this  so  certain  ? 
Other  beings,  surely,  may  possess  an  intel- 
lect that  differs  from  ours,  and  produces 
different  results,  without  therefore  being 
inferior.  And  besides,  are  we,  even  in 
this  little  human  parish  of  ours,  such 
infallible  judges  of  matters  that  pertain  to 
the  spirit  ?  Can  we  so  readily  divine 
the  thoughts  that  may  govern  the  two 
or  three  people  we  may  chance  to  see 
moving  and  talking  behind  a  closed  win- 
dow, when  their  words  do  not  reach  us? 
Or  let  us  suppose  that  an  inhabitant  of 
Venus  or  Mars  were  to  contemplate  us 
from  the  height  of  a  mountain,  and  watch 
the  little  black  specks  that  we  form  in 
.  61 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

space,  as  we  come  and  go  in  the  streets 
and  squares  of  our  towns.  Would  the 
mere  sight  of  our  movements,  our  build- 
ings, machines,  and  canals,  convey  to  him 
any  precise  idea  of  our  morality,  intellect, 
our  manner  of  thinking,  and  loving,  and 
hoping,  —  in  a  word,  of  our  real  and  inti- 
mate self?  All  he  could  do,  like  our- 
selves when  we  gaze  at  the  hive,  would  be 
to  take  note  of  some  facts  that  seem  very 
surprising ;  and  from  these  facts  to  deduce 
conclusions  probably  no  less  erroneous, 
no  less  uncertain,  than  those  that  we  choose 
to  form  concerning  the  bee. 

This  much  at  least  is  certain  ;  our  "  little 
black  specks  "  would  not  reveal  the  vast 
moral  direction,  the  wonderful  unity,  that 
are  so  apparent  in  the  hive.  "  Whither 
do  they  tend,  and  what  is  it  they  do  ?  "  he 
would  ask,  after  years  and  centuries  of 
patient  watching.  "  What  is  the  aim  of 
their  life,  or  its  pivot  ?  Do  they  obey 
62 


The  Swarm 

some  God?  I  can  see  nothing  that 
governs  their  actions.  The  little  things 
that  one  day  they  appear  to  collect  and 
build  up,  the  next  they  destroy  and  scatter 
They  come  and  they  go,  they  meet  and 
disperse,  but  one  knows  not  what  it  is  they 
seek.  In  numberless  cases  the  spectacle 
they  present  is  altogether  inexplicable. 
There  are  some,  for  instance,  who,  as 
it  were,  seem  scarcely  to  stir  from  their 
place.  They  are  to  be  distinguished 
by  their  glossier  coat,  and  often  too  by 
their  more  considerable  bulk.  They 
occupy  buildings  ten  or  twenty  times 
larger  than  ordinary  dwellings,  and  richer, 
and  more  ingeniously  fashioned.  Every 
day  they  spend  many  hours  at  their  meals, 
which  sometimes  indeed  are  prolonged  far 
into  the  night.  They  appear  to  be  held 
in  extraordinary  honour  by  those  who 
approach  them ;  men  come  from  the 
neighbouring  houses,  bringing  provisions, 
63. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

and  even  from  the  depths  of  the  country, 
laden  with  presents.  One  can  only 
assume  that  these  persons  must  be  indis- 
pensable to  the  race,  to  which  they  render 
essential  service,  although  our  means  of 
investigation  have  not  yet  enabled  us  to 
discover  what  the  precise  nature  of  this 
service  may  be.  There  are  others,  again, 
who  are  incessantly  engaged  in  the  most 
wearisome  labour,  whether  it  be  in  great 
sheds  full  of  wheels  that  forever  turn  round 
and  round,  or  close  by  the  shipping,  or  in 
obscure  hovels,  or  on  small  plots  of  earth 
that  from  sunrise  to  sunset  they  are  con- 
itantly  delving  and  digging.  We  are  led  to 
believe  that  this  labour  must  be  an  offence, 
and  punishable.  For  the  persons  guilty 
of  it  are  housed  in  filthy,  ruinous,  squalid 
cabins.  They  are  clothed  in  some  colour- 
less hide.  So  great  does  their  ardour 
appear  for  this  noxious,  or  at  any  rate 
useless  activity,  that  they  scarcely  allow 


The  Swarm 

themselves  time  to  eat  or  to  sleep.  la 
numbers  they  are  to  the  others  as  a  thou 
sand  to  one.  It  is  remarkable  that  the 
species  should  have  been  able  to  survive- 
to  this  day  under  conditions  so  unfavour- 
able to  its  development.  It  should  be 
mentioned,  however,  that  apart  from  this 
characteristic  devotion  to  their  wearisome 
toil,  they  appear  inoffensive  and  docile; 
and  satisfied  with  the  leavings  of  those 
who  evidently  are  the  guardians,  if  not 
the  saviours,  of  the  race." 


Is  it  not  strange  that  the  hive,  which 
we  vaguely  survey  from  the  height  of 
another  world,  should  provide  our  first 
questioning  glance  with  so  sure  and  pro- 
found a  reply?  Must  we  not  adnvre  the 
manner  in  which  the  thought  or  the  god 
that  the  bees  obey  is  at  once  revealed  by 
their  edifices,  wrought  with  such  striking 
s  65 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

conviction,  by  their  customs  and  laws, 
their  political  and  economical  organisation, 
their  virtues,  and  even  their  cruelties  ? 
Nor  is  this  god,  though  it  be  perhaps  the 
only  one  to  which  man  has  as  yet  never 
offered  serious  worship,  by  any  means  the 
least  reasonable  or  the  least  legitimate 
that  we  can  conceive.  The  god  of  the 
bees  is  the  future.  When  we,  in  our 
study  of  human  history,  endeavour  to 
gauge  the  moral  force  or  greatness  of  a 
people  or  race,  we  have  but  one  standard 
of  measurement  —  the  dignity  and  perma- 
nence of  their  ideal,  and  the  abnegation 
wherewith  they  pursue  it.  Have  we  often 
encountered  an  ideal  more  conformable  to 
the  desires  of  the  universe,  more  widely 
manifest,  more  disinterested  or  sublime; 
have  we  often  discovered  an  abnegation 
more  complete  and  heroic? 


The  Swarm 

['9] 

Strange  little  republic,  that,  for  all  its 
logic  and  gravity,  its  matured  conviction 
and  prudence,  still  falls  victim  to  so  vast 
and  precarious  a  dream  !  Who  shall  tell 
us,  O  little  people  that  are  so  profoundly 
in  earnest,  that  have  fed  on  the  warmth 
and  the  light  and  on  nature's  purest,  the 
soul  of  the  flowers,  wherein  matter  for 
once  seems  to  smile,  and  put  forth  it? 
most  wistful  effort  towards  beauty  and  hap- 
piness, —  who  shall  tell  us  what  prob- 
lems you  have  resolved,  but  we  not  yet, 
what  certitudes  you  have  acquired  that 
we  still  have  to  conquer  ?  And  if  you 
have  truly  resolved  these  problems,  and 
acquired  these  certitudes,  by  the  aid  of 
some  blind  and  primitive  impulse  and 
not  through  the  intellect,  then  to  what 
enigma,  more  insoluble  still,  are  you  not 
urging  us  on  ?  Little  city  abounding 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  faith  and  mystery  and  hope,  why 
do  your  myriad  virgins  consent  to  a  task 
that  no  human  slave  has  ever  accepted  ? 
Another  spring  might  be  theirs,  another 
summer,  were  they  only  a  little  less  waste- 
ful of  strength,  a  little  less  self-forgetful 
in  their  ardour  for  toil ;  but  at  the  mag- 
nificent moment  when  the  flowers  all  cry 
to  them,  they  seem  to  be  stricken  with 
the  fatal  ecstasy  of  work ;  and  in  less 
than  five  weeks  they  almost  all  perish, 
their  wings  broken,  their  bodies  shrivelled 
and  covered  with  wounds. 

"  Tantus  amor  florum,  et  generandi  gloria  mellis  !  " 

cries  Virgil  in  the  fourth  book  of  the 
Georgics,  wherein  he  devotes  himself  to 
the  bees,  and  hands  down  to  us  the 
charming  errors  of  the  ancients,  who 
looked  on  nature  with  eyes  still  dazzled 
by  the  presence  of  imaginary  gods. 


68 


The  Swarm 


Why  do  they  thus  renounce  sleep,  the 
delights  of  honey  and  love,  and  the  ex- 
quisite leisure  enjoyed,  for  instance,  by 
their  winged  brother,  the  butterfly  ? 
Why  will  they  not  live  as  he  lives  ? 
It  is  not  hunger  that  urges  them  on. 
Two  or  three  flowers  suffice  for  their 
nourishment,  and  in  one  hour  they  will 
visit  two  or  three  hundred,  to  collect  a 
treasure  whose  sweetness  they  never  will 
taste.  Why  all  this  toil  and  distress,  and 
whence  comes  this  mighty  assurance  ?  Is 
it  so  certain,  then,  that  the  new  generation 
whereunto  you  offer  your  lives  will  merit 
the  sacrifice  ;  will  be  more  beautiful,  hap- 
pier, will  do  something  you  have  not 
done  ?  Your  aim  is  clear  to  us,  clearet 
far  than  our  own  ;  you  desire  to  live, 
as  long  as  the  world  itself,  in  those  that 
come  after;  but  what  can  the  aim  be 
•0 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

of  this  great  aim ;   what  the  mission  of 
this  existence  eternally  renewed  ? 

And  yet  may  it  not  be  that  these  ques- 
tions are  idle,  and  we  who  are  putting  them 
to  you  mere  childish  dreamers,  hedged 
round  with  error  and  doubt?  And,  in- 
deed, had  successive  evolutions  installed 
you  all-powerful  and  supremely  happy ; 
had  you  gained  the  last  heights,  whence 
at  length  you  ruled  over  nature's  laws ; 
nay,  were  you  immortal  goddesses,  we 
still  should  be  asking  you  what  your 
desires  might  be,  your  ideas  of  prog- 
ress ;  still  wondering  where  you  imag- 
ined that  at  last  you  would  rest  and 
declare  your  wishes  fulfilled.  We  are 
so  made  that  nothing  contents  us;  that 
we  can  regard  no  single  thing  as  having 
its  aim  self-contained,  as  simply  existing, 
with  no  thought  beyond  existence.  Has 
there  been,  to  this  day,  one  god  out  of  all 
the  multitude  man  has  conceived,  from 
70 


The  Swarm 

the  vulgarest  to  the  most  thoughtful,  of 
whom  it  has  not  been  require4  that  he 
shall  be  active  and  stirring,  that  he  shall 
create  countless  beings  and  things,  and 
have  myriad  aims  outside  himself?  And 
will  the  time  ever  come  when  we  shall  be 
resigned  for  a  few  hours  tranquilly  to 
represent  in  this  world  an  interesting 
form  of  material  activity  ;  and  then,  our 
few  hours  over,  to  assume,  without  sur- 
prise and  without  regret,  that  other  form 
which  is  the  unconscious,  the  unknown, 
the  slumbering,  and  the  eternal? 


But  we  are  forgetting  the  hive  wherein 
the  swarming  bees  have  begun  to  lose 
patience,  the  hive  whose  black  and  vi- 
brating waves  are  bubbling  and  overflow- 
ing, like  a  brazen  cup  beneath  an  ardent 
sun.  It  is  noon;  and  the  heat  so  great 
that  the  assembled  trees  would  seem  al- 

71 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

most  to  hold  back  their  leaves,  as  a  man 
holds  his  breath  before  something  very 
tender  but  very  grave.  The  bees  give 
their  honey  and  sweet-smelling  wax  to 
the  man  who  attends  them ;  but  more 
precious  gift  still  is  their  summoning  him 
to  the  gladness  of  June,  to  the  joy  of  the 
beautiful  months ;  for  events  in  which 
bees  take  part  happen  only  when  skies 
are  pure,  at  the  winsome  hours  of  the 
year  when  flowers  keep  holiday.  They 
are  the  soul  of  the  summer,  the  clock 
whose  dial  records  the  moments  of 
plenty;  they  are  the  untiring  wing  on 
which  delicate  perfumes  float;  the  guide 
of  the  quivering  light-ray,  the  song  of  the 
slumberous,  languid  air ;  and  their  flight 
is  the  token,  the  sure  and  melodious  note, 
of  all  the  myriad  fragile  joys  that  are  born 
in  the  heat  and  dwell  in  the  sunshine. 
They  teach  us  to  tune  our  ear  to  the 
softest,  most  intimate  whisper  of  these 
72 


The  Swarm 

good,  natural  hours.  To  him  who  has 
known  them  and  loved  them,  a  summef 
where  there  are  no  bees  becomes  as  sad 
and  as  empty  as  one  without  flowers  or 
birds. 


The  man  who  never  before  has  beheld 
the  swarm  of  a  populous  hive  must  re- 
gard this  riotous,  bewildering  spectacle 
with  some  apprehension  and  diffidence. 
He  will  be  almost  afraid  to  draw  near; 
he  will  wonder  can  these  be  the  earnest, 
the  peace-loving,  hard-working  bees  whose 
movements  he  has  hitherto  followed? 
It  was  but  a  few  moments  before  he  had 
seen  them  troop  in  from  all  parts  of  the 
country,  as  pre-occupied,  seemingly,  as 
little  housewives  might  be,  with  no 
thoughts  beyond  household  cares.  He 
had  watched  them  stream  into  the  hive, 
imperceptibly  almost,  out  of  breath 
TS 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

eager,  exhausted,  full  of  discreet  agita- 
tion ;  and  had  seen  the  young  amazons 
stationed  at  the  gate  salute  them,  as  they 
passed  by,  with  the  slightest  wave  of 
antennae.  And  then,  the  inner  court 
reached,  they  had  hurriedly  given  their 
harvest  of  honey  to  the  adolescent  por- 
tresses always  stationed  within,  exchang- 
ing with  these  at  most  the  three  or 
four  probably  indispensable  words;  or 
perhaps  they  would  hasten  themselves 
to  the  vast  magazines  that  encircle  the 
brood-cells,  and  deposit  the  two  heavy 
baskets  of  pollen  that  depend  from 
their  thighs,  thereupon  at  once  going 
forth  once  more,  without  giving  a  thought 
to  what  might  be  passing  in  the  royal 
palace,  the  work-rooms,  or  the  dormitory 
where  the  nymphs  lie  asleep ;  without 
for  one  instant  joining  in  the  babel  of 
the  public  place  in  front  of  the  gate, 
where  it  is  the  wont  of  the  cleaners,  at 


The  Swarm 

time  of  great  heat,  to  congregate  and  to 
gossip. 


To-day  this  is  all  changed.  A  certain 
number  of  workers,  it  is  true,  will  peace- 
fully go  to  the  fields,  as  though  nothing 
were  happening  ;  will  come  back,  clean 
the  hive,  attend  to  the  brood-cells,  and 
hold  altogether  aloof  from  the  general 
ecstasy.  These  are  the  ones  that  will 
not  accompany  the  queen  ;  they  will 
remain  to  guard  the  old  home,  feed  the 
nine  or  ten  thousand  eggs,  the  eighteen 
thousand  larvae,  the  thirty-six  thousand 
nymphs  and  seven  or  eight  royal  prin- 
cesses, that  to-day  shall  all  be  abandoned 
Why  they  have  been  singled  out  for  this 
austere  duty,  by  what  law,  or  by  whom, 
it  is  not  in  our  power  to  divine.  To 
this  mission  of  theirs  they  remain  in- 
flexibly, tranquilly  faithful  ;  and  though 
7S 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

I  have  many  times  tried  the  experiment 
of  sprinkling  a  colouring  matter  over  one 
of  these  resigned  Cinderellas,  that  are 
moreover  easily  to  be  distinguished  in  the 
midst  of  the  rejoicing  crowds  by  their 
serious  and  somewhat  ponderous  gait, 
it  is  rarely  indeed  that  I  have  found 
one  of  them  in  the  delirious  throng 
of  the  swarm. 


And  yet,  the  attraction  must  seem 
irresistible.  It  is  the  ecstasy  of  the  per- 
haps unconscious  sacrifice  the  god  has 
ordained  ;  it  is  the  festival  of  honey,  the 
triumph  of  the  race,  the  victory  of  the 
future  :  the  one  day  of  joy,  of  forgetfulness 
and  folly  ;  the  only  Sunday  known  to 
the  bees.  It  would  appear  to  be  also  the 
solitary  day  upon  which  all  eat  their  fill, 
and  revel,  to  heart's  content,  in  the  de- 
lights of  the  treasure  themselves  have 


The  Swarm 

amassed.  It  is  as  though  they  were 
prisoners  to  whom  freedom  at  last  had 
been  given,  who  had  suddenly  been  led 
to  a  land  of  refreshment  and  plenty. 
They  exult,  they  cannot  contain  the  joy 
that  is  in  them.  They  come  and  go 
aimlessly,  —  they  whose  every  movement 
has  always  its  precise  and  useful  purpose 
—  they  depart  and  return,  sally  forth  once 
again  to  see  if  the  queen  be  ready,  to 
excite  their  sisters,  to  beguile  the  tedium 
of  waiting.  They  fly  much  higher  than 
is  their  wont,  and  the  leaves  of  the 
mighty  trees  round  about  all  quiver 
responsive.  They  have  left  trouble 
behind,  and  care.  They  no  longer  are 
meddling  and  fierce,  aggressive,  suspicious, 
untamable,  angry.  Man  —  the  unknown 
master  whose  sway  they  never  acknowl- 
edge, who  can  subdue  them  only  by  con- 
forming to  their  every  law,  to  their  habits 
of  labour,  and  following  step  by  step  the 

77 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

path  that  is  traced  in  their  life  by  an 
intellect  nothing  can  thwart  or  turn  from 
its  purpose,  by  a  spirit  whose  aim  is 
always  the  good  of  the  morrow  —  on  this 
day  man  can  approach  them,  can  divide 
the  glittering  curtain  they  form  as  they 
fly  round  and  round  in  songful  circles; 
he  can  take  them  up  in  his  hand,  and 
gather  them  as  he  would  a  bunch  of 
grapes;  for  to-day,  in  their  gladnesSj 
possessing  nothing,  but  full  of  faith  in 
the  future,  they  will  submit  to  everything 
and  injure  no  one,  provided  only  they  be 
not  separated  from  the  queen  who  bears 
that  future  within  her. 

c 2*  ]     £&' 

But  the  veritable  signal  has  not  yet 
been  given.  In  the  hive  there  is  in- 
describable confusion ;  and  a  disorder 
whose  meaning  escapes  us.  At  ordinary 
times  each  bee,  once  returned  to  her 
78 


The  Swarm 

home,  would  appear  to  forget  her  posses- 
sion of  wings ;  and  will  pursue  her  active 
labours,  making  scarcely  a  movement,  on 
that  particular  spot  in  the  hive  that  her 
special  duties  assign.  But  to-day  they  all 
seem  bewitched ;  they  fly  in  dense  circles 
round  and  round  the  polished  walls, 
like  a  living  jelly  stirred  by  an  invisible 
hand.  The  temperature  within  rises 
rapidly,  —  to  such  a  degree,  at  times,  that 
the  wax  of  the  buildings  will  soften,  and 
twist  out  of  shape.  The  queen,  who 
ordinarily  never  will  stir  from  the  centre 
of  the  comb,  now  rushes  wildly,  in  breath- 
less excitement,  over  the  surface  of  the 
vehement  crowd  that  turn  and  turn  on 
themselves.  Is  she  hastening  their  de- 
parture, or  trying  to  delay  it  ?  Does  she 
command,  or  haply  implore  ?  Does  this 
prodigious  emotion  issue  from  her,  or  is 
she  its  victim  ?  Such  knowledge  as  we 
possess  of  the  general  psychology  of  the 
79 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

bee  warrants  the  belief  that  the  swarming 
always  takes  place  against  the  old  sov- 
ereign's will.  For  indeed  the  ascetic 
workers,  her  daughters,  regard  the  queen 
above  all  as  the  organ  of  love,  indispen- 
sable, certainly,  and  sacred,  but  in  herself 
somewhat  unconscious,  and  often  of  feeble 
mind.  They  treat  her  like  a  mother  in 
her  dotage.  Their  respect  for  her,  their 
tenderness,  is  heroic  and  boundless. 
The  purest  honey,  specially  distilled  and 
almost  entirely  assimilable,  is  reserved 
for  her  use  alone.  She  has  an  escort  that 
watches  over  her  by  day  and  by  night, 
that  facilitates  her  maternal  duties  and 
gets  ready  the  cells  wherein  the  eggs 
shall  be  laid ;  she  has  loving  attendants 
who  pet  and  caress  her,  feed  her  and  clean 
her,  and  even  absorb  her  excrement. 
Should  the  least  accident  befall  her  the 
news  will  spread  quickly  from  group  to 
group,  and  the  whole  population  will  rush 
80 


The  Swarm 

to  and  fro  in  loud  lamentation.  Seize 
her,  imprison  her,  take  her  away  from 
the  hive  at  a  time  when  the  bees  shall 
have  no  hope  of  filling  her  place,  owing, 
it  may  be,  to  her  having  left  no  pre- 
destined descendants,  or  to  there  being 
no  larvae  less  than  three  days  old  (for  a 
special  nourishment  is  capable  of  trans- 
forming these  into  royal  nymphs,  such 
being  the  grand  democratic  principle  of 
the  hive,  and  a  counterpoise  to  the  preroga- 
tives of  maternal  predestination),  and  then, 
her  loss  once  known,  after  two  or  three 
hours,  perhaps,  for  the  city  is  vast,  work 
will  cease  in  almost  every  direction.  The 
young  will  no  longer  be  cared  for ;  part 
of  the  inhabitants  will  wander  in  every 
direction,  seeking  their  mother,  in  quest 
of  whom  others  will  sally  forth  from  the 
hive ;  the  workers  engaged  in  construct- 
ing the  comb  will  fall  asunder  and  scatter, 
the  foragers  no  longer  will  visit  the 
*  81 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

flowers,  the  guard  at  the  entrance  will 
abandon  their  post ;  and  foreign  marau- 
ders, all  the  parasites  of  honey,  forever 
on  the  watch  for  opportunities  of  plunder, 
will  freely  enter  and  leave  without  any 
one  giving  a  thought  to  the  defence  of 
the  treasure  that  has  been  so  laboriously 
gathered.  And  poverty,  little  by  little, 
will  steal  into  the  city;  the  population 
will  dwindle ;  and  the  wretched  inhabitants 
soon  will  perish  of  distress  and  despair, 
though  every  flower  of  summer  burst 
into  bloom  before  them. 

But  let  the  queen  be  restored  before 
her  loss  has  become  an  accomplished, 
irremediable  fact,  before  the  bees  have 
grown  too  profoundly  demoralised,  —  for 
in  this  they  resemble  men :  a  prolonged 
regret,  or  misfortune,  will  impair  their 
intellect  and  degrade  their  character,  —  let 
her  be  restored  but  a  few  hours  later,  and 
they  will  receive  her  with  extraordinary, 
82 


The  Swarm 

pathetic  welcome.  They  will  flock  eagerly 
round  her ;  excited  groups  will  climb  over 
each  other  in  their  anxiety  to  draw  near; 
as  she  passes  among  them  they  will  caress 
her  with  the  long  antennae  that  contain  so 
many  organs  as  yet  unexplained ;  they  will 
present  her  with  honey,  and  escort  her 
tumultuously  back  to  the  royal  chamber. 
And  order  at  once  is  restored,  work  re- 
sumed, from  the  central  comb  of  the 
brood-cells  to  the  furthest  annex  where 
the  surplus  honey  is  stored ;  the  foragers 
go  forth,  in  long  black  files,  to  return,  in 
less  than  three  minutes  sometimes,  laden 
with  nectar  and  pollen ;  streets  are  swept, 
parasites  and  marauders  killed  or  expelled ; 
and  the  hive  soon  resounds  with  the  gentle, 
monotonous  cadence  of  the  strange  hymn 
of  rejoicing,  which  is,  it  would  seem,  the 
hymn  of  the  royal  presence. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[26] 

There  are  numberless  instances  of  the 
absolute  attachment  and  devotion  that 
the  workers  display  towards  their  queen. 
Should  disaster  befall  the  little  republic; 
should  the  hive  or  the  comb  collapse, 
should  man  prove  ignorant,  or  brutal ; 
should  they  suffer  from  famine,  from  cold 
or  disease,  and  perish  by  thousands,  it 
will  still  be  almost  invariably  found  that 
the  queen  will  be  safe  and  alive,  beneath 
the  corpses  of  her  faithful  daughters.  For 
they  will  protect  her,  help  her  to  escape; 
their  bodies  will  provide  both  rampart  and 
shelter ;  for  her  will  be  the  last  drop  of 
honey,  the  wholesomest  food.  And  be 
the  disaster  never  so  great,  the  city  of 
virgins  will  not  lose  heart  so  long  as  the 
queen  be  alive.  Break  their  comb  twenty 
times  in  succession,  take  twenty  times 
from  them  their  young  and  their  food, 


The  Swarm 

you  still  shall  never  succeed  in  making 
them  doubt  of  the  future;  and  though 
they  be  starving,  and  their  number  so 
small  that  it  scarcely  suffices  to  shield  their 
mother  from  the  enemy's  gaze,  they  will 
set  about  to  reorganize  the  laws  of  the 
colony,  and  to  provide  for  what  is  most 
pressing ;  they  will  distribute  the  work  in 
accordance  with  the  new  necessities  of  this 
disastrous  moment,  and  thereupon  will 
immediately  re-assume  their  labours  with 
an  ardour,  a  patience,  a  tenacity  and  intel- 
ligence not  often  to  be  found  existing  to 
such  a  degree  in  nature,  true  though  it  be 
that  most  of  its  creatures  display  more 
confidence  and  courage  than  man. 

But  the  presence  of  the  queen  is  not 
even  essential  for  their  discouragement  to 
vanish  and  their  love  to  endure.  It  is 
enough  that  she  should  have  left,  at  the 
moment  of  her  death  or  departure,  the 
very  slenderest  hope  of  descendants.  "  We 
85 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

have  seen  a  colony,"  says  Langstroth,  one 
of  the  fathers  of  modern  apiculture,  "  that 
had  not  bees  sufficient  to  cover  a  comb  of 
three  inches  square,  and  yet  endeavoured 
to  rear  a  queen.  For  two  whole  weeks 
did  they  cherish  this  hope  ;  finally,  when 
their  number  was  reduced  by  one-half,  their 
queen  was  born,  but  her  wings  were  imper- 
fect, and  she  was  unable  to  fly.  Impotent 
as  she  was,  her  bees  did  not  treat  her  with 
the  less  respect.  A  week  more,  and  there 
remained  hardly  a  dozen  bees  ;  yet  a  few 
days,  and  the  queen  had  vanished,  leaving 
a  few  wretched,  inconsolable  insects  upon 
the  combs." 


There  is  another  instance,  and  one  that 
reveals  most  palpably  the  ultimate  gesture 
of  filial  love  and  devotion.  It  arises  from 
one  of  the  extraordinary  ordeals  that  our 
recent  and  tyrannical  intervention  inflict* 
8$ 


The  Swarm 

on  these  hapless,  unflinching  heroines.  I, 
in  common  with  all  amateur  bee-keepers, 
have  more  than  once  had  impregnated 
queens  sent  me  from  Italy ;  for  the 
Italian  species  is  more  prolific,  stronger, 
more  active,  and  gentler  than  our  own.  It 
is  the  custom  to  forward  them  in  small, 
perforated  boxes.  In  these  some  food  is 
placed,  and  the  queen  enclosed,  together 
with  a  certain  number  of  workers,  selected 
as  far  as  possible  from  among  the  oldest 
bees  in  the  hive.  (The  age  of  the  bee  can 
be  readily  told  by  its  body,  which  gradu- 
ally becomes  more  polished,  thinner,  and 
almost  bald ;  and  more  particularly  by 
the  wings,  which  hard  work  uses  and 
tears.)  It  is  their  mission  to  feed  the 
queen  during  the  journey,  to  tend  her  and 
guard  her.  I  would  frequently  find,  when 
the  box  arrived,  that  nearly  every  one  of 
the  workers  was  dead.  On  one  occasion, 
indeed,  they  had  all  perished  of  hunger; 
87 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

fcut  in  this  instance  as  in  all  others  tha 
queen  was  alive,  unharmed,  and  full  of 
vigour  ;  and  the  last  of  her  companions 
had  probably  passed  away  in  the  act  of 
presenting  the  last  drop  of  honey  she 
held  in  her  sac  to  the  queen,  who  was 
symbol  of  a  life  more  precious,  more  vast> 
than  her  own. 


This  unwavering  affection  having  come 
under  the  notice  of  man,  he  was  able  to 
turn  to  his  own  advantage  the  qualities  to 
which  it  gives  rise,  or  that  it  perhaps  con- 
tains: the  admirable  political  sense,  the 
passion  for  work,  the  perseverance,  mag- 
nanimity, and  devotion  to  the  future. 
It  has  allowed  him,  in  the  course  of 
the  last  few  years,  to  a  certain  extent 
to  domesticate  these  intractable  insects, 
though  without  their  knowledge;  for 
they  yield  to  no  foreign  strength,  and 


The 

in  their  unconscious  servitude  obey  only 
the  laws  of  their  own  adoption.  Man 
may  believe,  if  he  choose,  that,  possessing 
the  queen,  he  holds  in  his  hand  the 
destiny  and  soul  of  the  hive.  In  accord- 
ance with  the  manner  in  which  he  deals 
with  her  —  as  it  were,  plays  with  her — 
he  can  increase  and  hasten  the  swarm  or 
restrict  and  retard  it ;  he  can  unite  or 
divide  colonies,  and  direct  the  emigration 
of  kingdoms.  And  yet  it  is  none  the  less 
true  that  the  queen  is  essentially  merely  a 
sort  of  living  symbol,  standing,  as  all 
symbols  must,  for  a  vaster  although  less 
perceptible  principle ;  and  this  principle 
the  apiarist  will  do  well  to  take  into 
account,  if  he  would  not  expose  himself  to 
more  than  one  unexpected  reverse.  For 
the  bees  are  by  no  means  deluded.  The 
presence  of  the  queen  does  not  blind  them 
to  the  existence  of  their  veritable  sovereign, 
immaterial  and  everlasting,  which  is  no 
89 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

other  than  their  fixed  idea.  Why  inquire 
as  to  whether  this  idea  be  conscious  or 
not  ?  Such  speculation  can  have  value 
only  if  our  anxiety  be  to  determine  whether 
we  should  more  rightly  admire  the  bees 
that  have  the  idea,  or  nature  that  has 
planted  it  in  them.  Wherever  it  lodge, 
in  the  vast  unknowable  body  or  in  the 
tiny  ones  that  we  see,  it  merits  our  deepest 
attention  ;  nor  may  it  be  out  of  place  here 
to  observe  that  it  is  the  habit  we  have  of 
subordinating  our  wonder  to  accidents  of 
origin  or  place,  that  so  often  causes  us 
to  lose  the  chance  of  deep  admiration  ; 
which  of  all  things  in  the  world  is  the 
most  helpful  to  us. 


These  conjectures  may  perhaps  be  re- 
garded as  exceedingly  venturesome,  and 
possibly  also  as  unduly  human.  It  may 
be  urged  that  the  bees,  in  all  probability, 

QO 


The  Swarm 

have  no  idea  of  the  kind ;  that  their  care 
for  the  future,  love  of  the  race,  and  many 
other  feelings  we  choose  to  ascribe  to 
them,  are  truly  no  more  than  forms  as- 
sumed by  the  necessities  of  life,  the  fear 
of  suffering  or  death,  and  the  attraction  of  * 
pleasure.  Let  it  be  so ;  look  on  it  all  as 
a  figure  of  speech ;  it  is  a  matter  to  which 
I  attach  no  importance.  The  one  thing 
certain  here,  as  it  is  the  one  thing  certain 
in  all  other  cases,  is  that,  under  special 
circumstances,  the  bees  will  treat  their 
queen  in  a  special  manner.  The  rest  is 
all  mystery,  around  which  we  only  can 
weave  more  or  less  ingenious  and  pleasant 
conjecture.  And  yet,  were  we  speaking 
of  man  in  the  manner  wherein  it  were 
wise  perhaps  to  speak  of  the  bee,  is  there 
very  much  more  we  could  say  ?  He  too 
yields  only  to  necessity,  the  attraction  of 
pleasure,  and  the  fear  of  suffering;  and 
what  we  call  our  intellect  has  the  s«ne 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

origin  and  mission  as  what  in  animals  we 
choose  to  term  instinct.  We  do  certain 
things,  whose  results  we  conceive  to  be 
known  to  us;  other  things  happen,  and 
we  flatter  ourselves  that  we  are  better 
equipped  than  animals  can  be  to  divine 
their  cause ;  but,  apart  from  the  fact  that 
this  supposition  rests  on  no  very  solid 
foundation,  events  of  this  nature  are  rare 
and  infinitesimal,  compared  with  the  vast 
mass  of  others  that  elude  comprehension ; 
and  all,  the  pettiest  and  the  most  sublime, 
the  best  known  and  the  most  inexplicable, 
the  nearest  and  the  most  distant,  come  to 
pass  in  a  night  so  profound  that  our 
blindness  may  well  be  almost  as  great  as 
that  we  suppose  in  the  bee. 

[30] 

"All  must  agree,"  remarks  Buffbn, 
who  has  a  somewhat  amusing  prejudice 
against  the  bee,  —  "all  must  agree  that 

Q2 


The  Swarm 

these  flies,  individually  considered,  pos- 
sess far  less  genius  than  the  dog,  the 
monkey,  or  the  majority  of  animals ;  that 
they  display  far  less  docility,  attachment, 
or  sentiment ;  that  they  have,  in  a  word, 
less  qualities  that  relate  to  our  own ;  and 
from  that  we  may  conclude  that  their  ap- 
parent intelligence  derives  only  from  their 
assembled  multitude ;  nor  does  this  union 
even  argue  intelligence,  for  it  is  governed 
by  no  moral  considerations,  it  being  with- 
out their  consent  that  they  find  themselves 
gathered  together.  This  society,  there- 
fore, is  no  more  than  a  physical  assem- 
blage ordained  by  nature,  and  independent 
either  of  knowledge,  or  reason,  or  aim. 
The  mother-bee  produces  ten  thousand 
individuals  at  a  time,  and  in  the  same 
place;  these  ten  thousand  individuals, 
were  they  a  thousand  times  stupider  than 
I  suppose  them  to  be,  would  be  com- 
pelled, for  the  mere  purpose  of  existence, 
93 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

to  contrive  some  form  of  arrangement; 
and,  assuming  that  they  had  begun  by  in- 
juring each  other,  they  would,  as  each 
one  possesses  the  same  strength  as  its 
fellow,  soon  have  ended  by  doing  each 
other  the  least  possible  harm,  or,  in  other 
words,  by  rendering  assistance.  They 
have  the  appearance  of  understanding 
each  other,  and  of  working  for  a  common 
aim ;  and  the  observer,  therefore,  is  apt  to 
endow  them  with  reasons  and  intellect 
that  they  truly  are  far  from  possessing. 
He  will  pretend  to  account  for  each 
action,  show  a  reason  behind  every  move- 
ment; and  from  thence  the  gradation  is 
easy  to  proclaiming  them  marvels,  or 
monsters,  of  innumerable  ideas.  Where- 
as the  truth  is  that  these  ten  thousand 
individuals,  that  have  been  produced  sim- 
ultaneously, that  have  lived  together,  and 
undergone  metamorphosis  at  more  or  less 
the  same  time,  cannot  fail  all  to  do  the 
94 


The  Swarm 

same  thing,  and  are  compelled,  howevei 
slight  the  sentiment  within  them,  to  adopt 
common  habits,  to  liv«  in  accord  and 
union,  to  busy  themselves  with  their  dwel- 
ling, to  return  to  it  after  their  journeys, 
etc.,  etc.  And  on  this  foundation  arise 
the  architecture,  the  geometry,  the  order, 
the  foresight,  love  of  country, — in  a  word, 
the  republic;  all  springing,  as  we  have 
seen,  from  the  admiration  of  the  observer/* 
There  we  have  our  bees  explained  in  a 
very  different  fashion.  And  if  it  seem 
more  natural  at  first,  is  it  not  for  the  very 
simple  reason  that  it  really  explains  al- 
most nothing?  I  will  not  allude  to  the 
material  errors  this  chapter  contains;  I 
will  only  ask  whether  the  mere  fact  of  the 
bees  accepting  a  common  existence,  while 
doing  each  other  the  least  possible  harm, 
does  not  in  itself  argue  a  certain  intelli- 
gence. And  does  not  this  intelligence 
appear  the  more  remarkable  to  us  as  we 
91 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

more  closely  examine  the  fashion  in  which 
these  "ten  thousand  individuals"  avoid 
hurting  each  other,  and  end  by  giving  as- 
sistance? And  further,  is  this  not  the 
history  of  ourselves  ;  and  does  not  all 
that  the  angry  old  naturalist  says  apply 
equally  to  every  one  of  our  human  socie- 
ties? And  yet  once  again:  if  the  bee  is 
indeed  to  be  credited  with  none  of  the 
feelings  or  ideas  that  we  have  ascribed  to 
it,  shall  we  not  very  willingly  shift  the 
ground  of  our  wonder  ?  If  we  must  not 
admire  the  bee,  we  will  then  admire 
nature;  the  moment  must  always  come 
when  admiration  can  be  no  longer  denied 
us,  nor  shall  there  be  loss  to  us  through 
our  having  retreated,  or  waited. 


However  these  things  may  be,  and  with- 
out abandoning  this  conjecture  of  ours,  that 
at  least  has  the  advantage  of  connecting 
96 


The  Swarm 

in  our  mind  certain  actions  that  have  evi- 
dent connection  in  fact,  it  is  certain  that 
the  bees  have  far  less  adoration  for  the 
queen  herself  than  for  the  infinite  future 
of  the  race  that  she  represents.  They  are 
not  sentimental ;  and  should  one  of  their 
number  return  from  work  so  severely 
wounded  as  to  be  held  incapable  of 
further  service,  they  will  ruthlessly  expel 
her  from  the  hive.  And  yet  it  cannot 
be  said  that  they  are  altogether  incapable 
of  a  kind  of  personal  attachment  towards 
their  mother.  They  will  recognise  her 
from  among  all.  Even  when  she  is  old, 
crippled,  and  wretched,  the  sentinels  at 
the  door  will  never  allow  another  queen 
to  enter  the  hive,  though  she  be  young 
and  fruitful.  It  is  true  that  this  is  one  of 
the  fundamental  principles  of  their  polity, 
and  never  relaxed  except  at  times  of 
abundant  honey,  in  favour  of  some  foreign 
worker  who  shall  be  well  laden  with  food 
»  97 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

When  the  queen  has  become  com- 
pletely sterile,  the  bees  will  rear  a  certain 
number  of  royal  princesses  to  fill  her  place. 
But  what  becomes  of  the  old  sovereign  ? 
As  to  this  we  have  no  precise  knowledge ; 
but  it  has  happened,  at  times,  that  apia- 
rists have  found  a  magnificent  queen,  in 
the  flower  of  her  age,  on  the  central  comb 
of  the  hive ;  and  in  some  obscure  corner, 
right  at  the  back,  the  gaunt,  decrepit  "  old 
mistress,"  as  they  call  her  in  Normandy. 
In  such  cases  it  would  seem  that  the  bees 
have  to  exercise  the  greatest  care  to  pro- 
tect her  from  the  hatred  of  the  vigorous 
rival  who  longs  for  her  death ;  for  queen 
hates  queen  so  fiercely  that  two  who  might 
happen  to  be  under  the  same  roof  would 
immediately  fly  at  each  other.  It  would  be 
pleasant  to  believe  that  the  bees  are  thus 
providing  their  ancient  sovereign  with  a 
humble  shelter  in  a  remote  corner  of  the 
city,  where  she  may  end  her  days  in  peace. 
0* 


The  Swarm 

Here  again  we  touch  one  of  the  thousand 
enigmas  of  the  waxen  city  ;  and  it  is  once 
more  proved  to  us  that  the  habits  and 
the  policy  of  the  bees  are  by  no  means 
narrow,  or  rigidly  predetermined;  and 
that  their  actions  have  motives  far  more 
complex  than  we  are  inclined  to  suppose. 

[3*..] 

But  we  are  constantly  tampering  with 
what  they  must  regard  as  immovable 
laws  of  nature ;  constantly  placing  the 
bees  in  a  position  that  may  be  compared 
to  that  in  which  we  should  ourselves  be 
placed  were  the  laws  of  space  and  gravity, 
of  light  and  heat,  to  be  suddenly  sup- 
pressed around  us.  What  are  the  bees  to 
do  when  we,  by  force  or  by  fraud,  intro- 
duce a  second  queen  into  the  city  ?  It  ij 
probable  that,  in  a  state  of  nature,  thankj 
to  the  sentinels  at  the  gate,  such  an  event 
has  never  occurred  since  they  first  came 

99 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

into  the  world.  But  this  prodigious  con 
juncture  does  not  scatter  their  wits  ;  they 
still  contrive  to  reconcile  the  two  princi- 
ples that  they  appear  to  regard  in  the  light 
of  divine  commands.  The  first  is  that  of 
unique  maternity,  never  infringed  except 
in  the  case  of  sterility  in  the  reigning 
queen,  and  even  then  only  very  excep- 
tionally j  the  second  is  more  curious  still, 
and,  although  never  transgressed,  suscepti- 
ble of  what  may  almost  be  termed  a  Judaic 
evasion.  It  is  the  law  that  invests  the 
person  of  a  queen,  whoever  she  be,  with  a 
sort  of  inviolability.  It  would  be  a  simple 
matter  for  the  bees  to  pierce  the  intruder 
with  their  myriad  envenomed  stings  ;  she 
would  die  on  the  spot,  and  they  would 
merely  have  to  remove  the  corpse  from 
the  hive.  But  though  this  sting  is  always 
held  ready  to  strike,  though  they  make 
constant  use  of  it  in  their  fights  among 
themselves,  they  will  never  draw  it  against 
100  . 


The  Swarm 

a  queen;  nor  will  a  queen  ever  draw  hers 
on  a  man,  an  animal,  or  an  ordinary  bee. 
She  will  never  unsheath  her  royal  weapon 
—  curved,  in  scimeter  fashion,  instead  of 
being  straight,  like  that  of  the  ordinary 
bee  —  save  only  in  the  case  of  her  doing 
battle  with  an  equal :  in  other  words, 
with  a  sister  queen. 

No  bee,  it  would  seem,  dare  take  on 
herself  the  horror  of  direct  and  bloody 
regicide.  Whenever,  therefore,  the  good 
order  and  prosperity  of  the  republic 
appear  to  demand  that  a  queen  shall  die, 
they  endeavour  to  give  to  her  death  some 
semblance  of  natural  decease,  and  by  infi- 
nite subdivision  of  the  crime,  to  render  it 
almost  anonymous. 

They  will,  therefore,  to  use  the  pictur- 
esque expression  of  the  apiarist,  "  ball  " 
the  queenly  intruder ;  in  other  words,  they 
will  entirely  surround  her  with  their  innu- 
merable interlaced  bodies.  They  wilJ 
101  • 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

thus  form  a  sort  of  living  prison  wherein 
the  captive  is  unable  to  move;  and  in 
this  prison  they  will  keep  her  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  if  need  be,  till  the  victim  die 
of  suffocation  or  hunger. 

But  if,  at  this  moment,  the  legitimate 
queen  draw  near,  and,  scenting  a  rival, 
appear  disposed  to  attack  her,  the  living 
walls  of  the  prison  will  at  once  fly  open ; 
and  the  bees,  forming  a  circle  around  the 
two  enemies,  will  eagerly  watch  the  strange 
duel  that  will  ensue,  though  remaining 
strictly  impartial,  and  taking  no  share  in 
it.  For  it  is  written  that  against  a  mother 
the  sting  may  be  drawn  by  a  mother 
alone ;  only  she  who  bears  in  her  flanks 
close  on  two  million  lives  appears  to 
possess  the  right  with  one  blow  to  inflict 
close  on  two  million  deaths. 

But  if  the  combat  last  too  long,  without 
any  result,  if  the  circular  weapons  glide 
harmlessly  over  the  heavy  cuirasses,  if  one 


The  Swarm 

of  the  queens  appear  anxious  to  make  her 
escape,  then,  be  she  the  legitimate  sover- 
eign or  be  she  the  stranger,  she  will  at 
once  be  seized  and  lodged  in  the  living 
prison  until  such  time  as  she  manifest 
once  more  the  desire  to  attack  her  foe.  It 
is  right  to  add,  however,  that  the  numer- 
ous experiments  that  have  been  made  on 
this  subject  have  almost  invariably  resulted 
in  the  victory  of  the  reigning  queen,  owing 
perhaps  to  the  extra  courage  and  ardour 
she  derives  from  the  knowledge  that  she 
is  at  home,  with  her  subjects  around  her, 
or  to  the  fact  that  the  bees,  however  im- 
partial while  the  fight  is  in  progress,  may 
possibly  display  some  favouritism  in  their 
manner  of  imprisoning  the  rivals;  for 
their  mother  would  seem  scarcely  to  suffer 
from  the  confinement,  whereas  the  stranger 
almost  always  emerges  in  an  appreciably 
bruised  and  enfeebled  condition. 


103 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[33] 

There  is  one  simple  experiment  which 
proves  the  readiness  with  which  the  bees 
will  recognise  their  queen,  and  the  depth 
of  the  attachment  they  bear  her.  Re- 
move her  from  the  hive,  and  there  will 
soon  be  manifest  all  the  phenomena  of 
anguish  and  distress  that  I  have  described 
in  a  preceding  chapter.  Replace  her,  a 
few  hours  later,  and  all  her  daughters  will 
hasten  towards  her,  offering  honey.  One 
section  will  form  a  lane,  for  her  to  pass 
through  ;  others,  with  head  bent  low  and 
abdomen  high  in  the  air,  will  describe 
before  her  great  semicircles  throbbing  with 
sound ;  hymning,  doubtless,  the  chant  of 
welcome  their  rites  dictate  for  moments 
of  supreme  happiness  or  solemn  respect. 

But  let  it  not  be  imagined  that  a  foreign 
queen  may  with  impunity  be  substituted 
for  the  legitimate  mother.  The  bees  will 
104 


The  Swarm 

at  once  detect  the  imposture  ;  the  intru- 
der will  be  seized,  and  immediately  en- 
closed in  the  terrible,  tumultuous  prison, 
whose  obstinate  walls  will  be  relieved,  as 
it  were,  till  she  dies ;  for  in  this  particular 
instance  it  hardly  ever  occurs  that  the 
stranger  emerges  alive. 

And  here  it  is  curious  to  note  to 
what  diplomacy  and  elaborate  stratagem 
man  is  compelled  to  resort  in  order  to 
delude  these  little  sagacious  insects,  and 
bend  them  to  his  will.  In  their  un- 
swerving loyalty,  they  will  accept  the 
most  unexpected  events  with  touching 
courage,  regarding  them  probably  as  some 
new  and  inevitable  fatal  caprice  of  nature. 
And,  indeed,  all  this  diplomacy  notwith- 
standing, in  the  desperate  confusion  that 
may  follow  one  of  these  hazardous  ex- 
pedients, it  is  on  the  admirable  good 
sense  of  the  bee  that  man  always,  and 
almost  empirically,  relies  :  on  the  inex' 
105 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

haustible  treasure  of  their  marvellous  laws 
and  customs,  on  their  love  of  peace  and 
order,  their  devotion  to  the  public  weal, 
and  fidelity  to  the  future  ;  on  the  adroit 
strength,  the  earnest  disinterestedness,  of 
their  character,  and,  above  all,  on  the  un- 
tiring devotion  with  which  they  fulfil 
their  duty.  But  the  enumeration  of  such 
procedures  belongs  rather  to  technical 
treatises  on  apiculture,  and  would  take  us 
too  far.1 

1  The  stranger  queen  is  usually  brought  into  the 
hive  enclosed  in  a  little  cage,  with  iron  wires,  which 
is  hung  between  two  combs.  The  cage  has  a  dooi 
made  of  wax  and  honey,  which  the  workers,  their 
anger  over,  proceed  to  gnaw,  thus  freeing  the  prisoner, 
whom  they  will  often  receive  without  any  ill-will. 
Mr.  Simmins,  manager  of  the  great  apiary  at  Rotting- 
dean,  has  recently  discovered  another  method  of  intro- 
ducing a  queen,  which,  being  extremely  simple  and 
almost  invariably  successful,  bids  fair  to  be  generally 
adopted  by  apiarists  who  value  their  art.  It  is  the 
behaviour  of  the  queen  that  usually  makes  her  intro- 
duction a  matter  of  so  great  difficulty.  She  is  almost 
1 06 


The  Swarm 


As  regards  this  personal  affection  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  there  is  one  word 
more  to  be  said.  That  such  affection 

distracted,  flies  to  and  fro,  hides,  and  generally  com- 
ports herself  as  an  intruder,  thus  arousing  the  suspicions 
of  the  bees,  which  are  soon  confirmed  by  the  workers' 
examination.  Mr.  Simmins  at  first  completely  isolates 
the  queen  he  intends  to  introduce,  and  lets  her  fast  for 
half  an  hour.  He  then  lifts  a  corner  of  the  inner 
cover  of  the  orphaned  hive,  and  places  the  strange  queen 
on  the  top  of  one  of  the  combs.  Her  former  isolation 
having  terrified  her,  she  is  delighted  to  find  herself  in 
the  midst  of  the  bees  ;  and  being  famished  she  eagerly 
accepts  the  food  they  offer  her.  The  workers,  de- 
ceived by  her  assurance,  do  not  examine  her,  but  prob- 
ably imagine  that  their  old  queen  has  returned,  and 
welcome  her  joyfully.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that, 
contrary  to  the  opinion  of  Huber  and  all  other  inves- 
tigators, the  bees  are  not  capable  of  recognising  their 
queen.  In  any  event,  the  two  explanations,  which  are 
both  equally  plausible  —  though  the  truth  may  lurk, 
perhaps,  in  a  third,  that  is  not  yet  known  to  us  — 
only  prove  once  again  how  complex  and  obscure  is 
the  psychology  of  the  bee.  And  from  this,  as  from  all 
107 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

exists  is  certain,  but  it  is  certain  also  that 
its  memory  is  exceedingly  short-lived. 
Dare  to  replace  in  her  kingdom  a  mother 
whose  exile  has  lasted  some  days,  and  her 
indignant  daughters  will  receive  her  in 
such  a  fashion  as  to  compel  you  hastily  to 
snatch  her  from  the  deadly  imprisonment 
reserved  for  unknown  queens.  For  the 
bees  have  had  time  to  transform  a  dozen 
workers'  habitations  into  royal  cells,  and 
the  future  of  the  race  is  no  longer  in 
danger.  Their  affection  will  increase,  or 
dwindle,  in  the  degree  that  the  queen  rep- 
resents the  future.  Thus  we  often  find, 
when  a  virgin  queen  is  performing  the 
perilous  ceremony  known  as  the  "  nuptial 
flight,"  of  which  I  will  speak  later,  that 
her  subjects  are  so  fearful  of  losing  her 
that  they  will  all  accompany  her  on  this 

questions  that  deal  with  life,  we  can  draw  one  conclu- 
sion only:  that,  till  better  obtain,  curiosity  still  must 
rule  in  our  heart. 

108 


The  Swarm 

tragic  and  distant  quest  of  love.  This 
they  will  never  do,  however,  if  they  be 
provided  with  a  fragment  of  comb  con- 
taining brood-cells,  whence  they  shall  be 
able  to  rear  other  queens.  Indeed,  their 
affection  even  may  turn  into  fury  and 
hatred  should  their  sovereign  fail  in  her 
duty  to  that  sort  of  abstract  divinity  that 
we  should  call  future  society,  which  the 
bees  would  appear  to  regard  far  more 
seriously  than  we.  It  happens,  for  in- 
stance, at  times,  that  apiarists  for  various 
reasons  will  prevent  the  queen  from  join- 
ing a  swarm  by  inserting  a  trellis  into  the 
hive ;  the  nimble  and  slender  workers  will 
flit  through  it,  unperceiving,  but  to  the 
poor  slave  of  love,  heavier  and  more  cor- 
pulent than  her  daughters,  it  offers  an  im- 
passable barrier.  The  bees,  when  they 
find  that  the  queen  has  not  followed,  will 
return  to  the  hive,  and  scold  the  unfortu« 
aate  prisoner,  hustle  and  ill-treat  her, 
ICQ 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

accusing  her  of  laziness,  probably,  or  sus- 
pecting her  of  feeble  mind.  On  their 
second  departure,  when  they  find  that  she 
still  has  not  followed,  her  ill-faith  becomes 
evident  to  them,  and  their  attacks  grow 
more  serious.  And  finally,  when  they 
shall  have  gone  forth  once  more,  and  still 
with  the  same  result,  they  will  almost 
always  condemn  her,  as  being  irremediably 
faithless  to  her  destiny  and  to  the  future 
of  the  race,  and  put  her  to  death  in  the 
royal  prison. 

[35] 

It  is  to  the  future,  therefore,  that  the 
bees  subordinate  all  things ;  and  with 
a  foresight,  a  harmonious  co-operation,  a 
skill  in  interpreting  events  and  turning 
them  to  the  best  advantage,  that  must 
compel  our  heartiest  admiration,  particu- 
larly when  we  remember  in  how  startling 
and  supernatural  a  light  our  recent  inter- 


The  Swarm 

* 
mention  must  present  itself  to  them.     It 

may  be  said,  perhaps,  that  in  the  last 
instance  we  have  given,  they  place  a  very 
false  construction  upon  the  queen's  ina- 
bility to  follow  them.  But  would  our 
powers  of  discernment  be  so  very  much 
subtler,  if  an  intelligence  of  an  order 
entirely  different  from  our  own,  and 
served  by  a  body  so  colossal  that  its 
movements  were  almost  as  imperceptible 
as  those  of  a  natural  phenomenon,  were 
to  divert  itself  by  laying  traps  of  this 
kind  for  us?  Has  it  not  taken  us  thou- 
sands of  years  to  invent  a  sufficiently 
plausible  explanation  for  the  thunderbolt? 
There  is  a  certain  feebleness  that  over- 
whelms every  intellect  the  moment  it 
emerges  from  its  own  sphere,  and  is 
brought  face  to  face  with  events  not  of 
its  own  initiation.  And,  besides,  it  is 
quite  possible  that  if  this  ordeal  of  the 
trellis  were  to  obtain  more  regularly  and 
in 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

generally  among  the  bees,  they  would  end 
by  detecting  the  pitfall,  and  by  taking 
steps  to  elude  it.  They  have  mastered 
the  intricacies  of  the  movable  comb,  of 
the  sections  that  compel  them  to  store 
their  surplus  honey  in  little  boxes  sym- 
metrically piled ;  and  in  the  case  of  the 
still  more  extraordinary  innovation  of 
foundation  wax,  where  the  cells  are  indi- 
cated only  by  a  slender  circumference 
of  wax,  they  are  able  at  once  to  grasp 
the  advantages  this  new  system  presents ; 
they  most  carefully  extend  the  wax,  and 
thus,  without  loss  of  time  or  labour, 
construct  perfect  cells.  So  long  as  the 
event  that  confronts  them  appear  not 
a  snare  devised  by  some  cunning  and 
malicious  god,  the  bees  may  be  trusted 
always  to  discover  the  best,  nay,  the  only 
human,  solution.  Let  me  cite  an  in- 
stance ;  an  event,  that,  though  occurring 
in  nature,  is  still  in  itself  wholly  abnor- 


The  Swarm 

mai.  I  refer  to  the  manner  in  which 
the  bees  will  dispose  of  a  mouse  or  a 
slug  that  may  happen  to  have  found  its 
way  into  the  hive.  The  intruder  killed, 
they  have  to  deal  with  the  body,  which 
will  very  soon  poison  their  dwelling. 
If  it  be  impossible  for  them  to  expel  or 
dismember  it,  they  will  proceed  methodi- 
cally and  hermetically  to  enclose  it  in  a 
veritable  sepulchre  of  propolis  and  wax, 
which  will  tower  fantastically  above  the 
ordinary  monuments  of  the  city.  In  one 
of  my  hives  last  year  I  discovered  three 
such  tombs  side  by  side,  erected  with 
party-walls,  like  the  cells  of  the  comb, 
so  that  no  wax  should  be  wasted.  These 
tombs  the  prudent  grave-diggers  had 
raised  over  the  remains  of  three  snails 
that  a  child  had  introduced  into  the  hive. 
As  a  rule,  when  dealing  with  snails,  they 
will  be  content  to  seal  up  with  wax  the 
orifice  of  the  shell.  But  in  this  case 

8  11 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

the  shells  were  more  or  less  cracked 
and  broken  ;  and  they  had  considered  it 
simpler,  therefore,  to  bury  the  entire  snail ; 
and  had  further  contrived,  in  order  that 
circulation  in  the  entrance-hall  might  not 
be  impeded,  a  number  of  galleries  exactly 
proportionate,  not  to  their  own  girth, 
but  to  that  of  the  males,  which  are 
almost  twice  as  large  as  themselves. 
Does  not  this  instance,  and  the  one  that 
follows,  warrant  our  believing  that  they 
would  in  time  discover  the  cause  of  the 
queen's  inability  to  follow  them  through 
the  trellis  ?  They  have  a  very  nice  sense 
of  proportion,  and  of  the  space  required 
for  the  movement  of  bodies.  In  the 
regions  where  the  hideous  death's-head 
sphinx,  the  acherontia  atropos,  abounds, 
they  construct  little  pillars  of  wax  at  the 
entrance  of  the  hive,  so  restricting  the  di- 
mension as  to  prevent  the  passage  of  the 
nocturnal  marauder's  enormous  abdomen. 
114 


The  Swarm 

[36] 

But  enough  on  this  point;  were  I  to 
cite  every  instance  I  should  never  have 
done.  To  return  to  the  queen,  whose 
position  in  the  hive,  and  the  part  that 
she  plays  therein,  we  shall  most  fitly 
describe  by  declaring  her  to  be  the  cap- 
tive heart  of  the  city,  and  the  centre 
around  which  its  intelligence  revolves. 
Unique  sovereign  though  she  be,  she 
is  also  the  royal  servant,  the  responsible 
delegate  of  love,  and  its  captive  custo- 
dian. Her  people  serve  her  and  vener- 
ate her;  but  they  never  forget  that  it 
is  not  to  her  person  that  their  homage 
is  given,  but  to  the  mission  that  she  ful- 
fils, and  the  destiny  she  represents.  It 
would  not  be  easy  for  us  to  find  a  human 
republic  whose  scheme  comprised  more 
of  the  desires  of  our  planet ;  or  a  democ- 
racv  that  offered  an  independence  more 
"5 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

perfect  and  rational,  combined  with  a  sub. 
mission  more  logical  and  more  complete. 
And  nowhere,  surely,  should  we  discover 
more  painful  and  absolute  sacrifice.  Let 
it  not  be  imagined  that  I  admire  this 
sacrifice  to  the  extent  that  I  admire  its 
results.  It  were  evidently  to  be  desired 
that  these  results  might  be  obtained  at 
the  cost  of  less  renouncement  and  suf- 
fering. But,  the  principle  once  accepted, 
—  and  this  is  needful,  perhaps,  in  the 
scheme  of  our  globe,  —  its  organisation 
compels  our  wonder.  Whatever  the 
human  truth  on  this  point  may  be,  life, 
in  the  hive,  is  not  looked  on  as  a 
series  of  more  or  less  pleasant  hours, 
whereof  it  is  wise  that  those  moments 
only  should  be  soured  and  embittered 
that  are  essential  for  maintaining  exist- 
ence. The  bees  regard  it  as  a  great 
common  duty,  impartially  distributed 
amongst  them  all,  and  tending  towards 


The  Swarm 

a  future  that  goes  further  and  further 
back  ever  since  the  world  began.  And, 
for  the  sake  of  this  future,  each  one 
renounces  more  than  half  of  her  rights 
and  her  joys.  The  queen  bids  farewell 
to  freedom,  the  light  of  day,  and  the 
calyx  of  flowers  ;  the  workers  give  five 
or  six  years  of  their  life,  and  shall  nevef 
know  love,  or  the  joys  of  maternity. 
The  queen's  brain  turns  to  pulp,  that  the 
reproductive  organs  may  profit ;  in  the 
workers  these  organs  atrophy,  to  the  bene- 
fit of  their  intelligence.  Nor  would  it 
be  fair  to  allege  that  the  will  plays  no 
part  in  all  these  renouncements.  We 
have  seen  that  each  worker's  larva  can 
be  transformed  into  a  queen  if  lodged 
and  fed  on  the  royal  plan;  and  similarly 
could  each  royal  larva  be  turned  into 
worker  if  her  food  were  changed  and 
her  cell  reduced.  These  mysterious  elec- 
tions take  place  every  day  in  the  golden 
117 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

shade  of  the  hive.  It  is  not  chance  that 
controls  them,  but  a  wisdom  whose  deep 
loyalty,  gravity,  and  unsleeping  watch- 
fulness man  alone  can  betray :  a  wisdom 
that  makes  and  unmakes,  and  keeps  careful 
watch  over  all  that  happens  within  and 
without  the  city.  If  sudden  flowers 
abound,  or  the  queen  grow  old,  or  less 
fruitful;  if  population  increase,  and  be 
pressed  for  room,  you  then  shall  find 
that  the  bees  will  proceed  to  rear  royal 
cells.  But  these  cells  may  be  destroyed 
if  the  harvest  fail,  or  the  hive  be  en- 
larged. Often  they  will  be  retained  so 
long  as  the  young  queen  have  not  ac- 
complished, or  succeeded  in,  her  marriage 
flight,  —  to  be  at  once  annihilated  when 
she  returns,  trailing  behind  her,  trophy- 
wise,  the  infallible  sign  of  her  impregna- 
tion. Who  shall  say  where  the  wisdom 
resides  that  can  thus  balance  present  and 
future,  and  prefer  what  is  not  yet  visible 
118 


The  Swarm 

to  that  which  already  is  seen  ?  Where 
the  anonymous  prudence  that  selects  and 
abandons,  raises  and  lowers ;  that  of  so 
many  workers  makes  so  many  queens, 
and  of  so  many  mothers  can  make  a 
people  of  virgins  ?  We  have  said  else- 
where that  it  lodged  in  the  "  Spirit  of 
the  Hive,"  but  where  shall  this  spirit 
of  the  hive  be  looked  for  if  not  in  the 
assembly  of  workers  ?  To  be  convinced 
of  its  residence  there,  we  need  not  per- 
haps have  studied  so  closely  the  habits 
of  this  royal  republic.  It  was  enough 
to  place  under  the  microscope,  as  Dujar- 
din,  Brandt,  Girard,  Vogel,  and  othei 
entomologists  have  done,  the  little  un^ 
couth  and  careworn  head  of  the  virgin 
worker  side  by  side  with  the  somewhat 
empty  skull  of  the  queen  and  the  male's 
magnificent  cranium,  glistening  with  its 
twenty-six  thousand  eyes.  Within  this 
tiny  head  we  should  find  the  workings 
Uf 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

of  the  vastest  and  most  magnificent  brain 
of  the  hive  :  the  most  beautiful  and  com- 
plex, the  most  perfect,  that,  in  another 
order  and  with  a  different  organisation,  is 
to  be  found  in  nature  after  that  of  man. 
Here  again,  as  in  every  quarter  where 
the  scheme  of  the  world  is  known  to  us, 
there  where  the  brain  is,  are  authority 
and  victory,  veritable  strength  and  wis- 
dom. And  here  again  it  is  an  almost 
invisible  atom  of  this  mysterious  sub- 
stance that  organises  and  subjugates 
matter,  and  is  able  to  create  its  own 
little  triumphant  and  permanent  place  in 
the  midst  of  the  stupendous,  inert  forces 
of  nothingness  and  death.1 

1  The  brain  of  the  bee,  according  to  the  calcula- 
tion of  Dujardin,  constitutes  the  i-l74th  part  of  the 
insect's  weight,  and  that  of  the  ant  the  i— 296th. 
On  the  other  hand  the  peduncular  parts,  whose  de- 
velopment usually  keeps  pace  with  the  triumphs  the 
intellect  achieves  over  instinct,  are  somewhat  less 
important  in  the  bee  than  in  the  ant.  It  would  seem 
120 


The  Swarm 

[37] 

And  now  to  return  to  our  swarming 
hive,  where  the  bees  have  already  given 
the  signal  for  departure,  without  waiting 
for  these  reflections  of  ours  to  come  to  an 
end.  At  the  moment  this  signal  is  given, 
it  is  as  though  one  sudden  mad  impulse 
had  simultaneously  flung  open  wide  every 
single  gate  in  the  city;  and  the  black 
throng  issues,  or  rather  pours  forth  in 
a  double,  or  treble,  or  quadruple  jet,  as 
the  number  of  exits  may  be ;  in  a  tense, 
direct,  vibrating,  uninterrupted  stream 
that  at  once  dissolves  and  melts  into 
space,  where  the  myriad  transparent,  furi- 
ous wings  weave  a  tissue  throbbing  with 
sound.  And  this  for  some  moments  will 

to  result  from  these  estimates  —  which  are  of  course 
hypothetical,  and  deal  with  a  matter  that  is  exceed- 
ingly obscure  —  that  the  intellectual  value  of  the  bee 
and  the  ant  must  be  more  or  less  equal. 

I2J 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

quiver  right  over  the  hive,  with  prodigious 
rustle  of  gossamer  silks  that  countless 
electrified  hands  might  be  ceaselessly  rend* 
ing  and  stitching ;  it  floats  undulating,  it 
trembles  and  flutters  like  a  veil  of  glad- 
ness invisible  fingers  support  in  the  sky, 
and  wave  to  and  fro,  from  the  flowers  to 
the  blue,  expecting  sublime  advent  or  de- 
parture. And  at  last  one  angle  declines 
another  is  lifted;  the  radiant  mantle 
unites  its  four  sunlit  corners ;  and  like 
the  wonderful  carpet  the  fairy-tale  speaks 
of,  that  flits  across  space  to  obey  its  mas- 
ter's command,  it  steers  its  straight  course, 
bending  forward  a  little  as  though  to  hide 
in  its  folds  the  sacred  presence  of  the 
future,  towards  the  willow,  the  pear-tree, 
or  lime  whereon  the  queen  has  alighted ; 
and  round  her  each  rhythmical  wave 
comes  to  rest,  as  though  on  a  nail  of  gold, 
and  suspends  its  fabric  of  pearls  and  oi 
luminous  wings. 


The  Swarm 

And  then  there  is  silence  once  more ; 
and,  in  an  instant,  this  mighty  tumult, 
this  awful  curtain  apparently  laden  with 
unspeakable  menace  and  anger,  this  be- 
wildering golden  hail  that  streamed  upon 
every  object  near — all  these  become  merely 
a  great,  inoffensive,  peaceful  cluster  of  bees, 
composed  of  thousands  of  little  motionless 
groups,  that  patiently  wait,  as  they  hang 
from  the  branch  of  a  tree,  for  the  scouts 
to  return  who  have  gone  in  search  of  a 
place  of  shelter. 

[38] 

This  is  the  first  stage  of  what  is  known 
as  the  "  primary  swarm  "  at  whose  head 
the  old  queen  is  always  to  be  found. 
They  will  settle  as  a  ruie  on  the  shrub 
or  the  tree  that  is  nearest  the  hive ;  for 
the  queen,  besides  being  weighed  down 
by  her  eggs,  has  dwelt  in  constant  dark- 
ness ever  since  her  marriage-flight,  or  the 
123 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

swarm  of  the  previous  year  ;  and  is  natu- 
rally reluctant  to  venture  far  into  space, 
having  indeed  almost  forgotten  the  use 
of  her  wings. 

The  bee-keeper  waits  till  the  mass  be 
completely  gathered  together  ;  then,  hav- 
ing covered  his  head  with  a  large  straw 
hat  (for  the  most  inoffensive  bee  will  con- 
ceive itself  caught  in  a  trap  if  entangled 
in  hair,  and  will  infallibly  use  its  sting), 
but,  if  he  be  experienced,  wearing  neither 
mask  nor  veil ;  having  taken  the  precau- 
tion only  of  plunging  his  arms  in  cold 
water  up  to  the  elbow,  he  proceeds  to 
gather  the  swarm  by  vigorously  shaking 
the  bough  from  which  the  bees  depend 
over  an  inverted  hive.  Into  this  hive  the 
cluster  will  fall  as  heavily  as  an  over-ripe 
fruit.  Or,  if  the  branch  be  too  stout,  he 
can  plunge  a  spoon  into  the  mass ;  and 
deposit  where  he  will  the  living  spoonfuls, 
as  though  he  were  ladling  out  corn.  He 

124 


The  Swarm 

need  have  no  fear  of  the  bees  that  are 
buzzing  around  him,  settling  on  his  face 
and  hands.  The  air  resounds  with  their 
song  of  ecstasy,  which  is  different  far  from 
their  chant  of  anger.  He  need  have  no 
fear  that  the  swarm  will  divide,  or  grow 
fierce,  will  scatter,  or  try  to  escape.  This 
is  a  day,  I  repeat,  when  a  spirit  of  holi- 
day would  seem  to  animate  these  mys- 
terious workers,  a  spirit  of  confidence, 
that  apparently  nothing  can  trouble. 
They  have  detached  themselves  from 
the  wealth  they  had  to  defend,  and  they 
no  longer  recognise  their  enemies.  They 
become  inoffensive  because  of  their  hap- 
piness, though  why  they  are  happy  we 
know  not,  except  it  be  because  they  are 
obeying  their  law.  A  moment  of  such 
blind  happiness  is  accorded  by  nature  at 
times  to  every  living  thing,  when  she 
seeks  to  accomplish  her  end.  Nor  need 
we  feel  any  surprise  that  here  the  bees  are 
"5 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

her  dupes ;  we  ourselves,  who  have  studied 
her  movements  these  centuries  past,  and 
with  a  brain  more  perfect  than  that  of  the 
bee,  we  too  are  her  dupes,  and  know  not 
even  yet  whether  she  be  benevolent  or 
indifferent,  or  only  basely  cruel. 

There  where  the  queen  has  alighted  the 
swarm  will  remain ;  and  had  she  descended 
alone  into  the  hive,  the  bees  would  have 
followed,  in  long  black  files,  as  soon  as 
intelligence  had  reached  them  of  the  ma- 
ternal retreat.  The  majority  will  hasten 
to  her,  with  utmost  eagerness  ;  but  large 
numbers  will  pause  for  an  instant  on  the 
threshold  of  the  unknown  abode,  and 
there  will  describe  the  circles  of  solemn 
rejoicing  with  which  it  is  their  habit  to 
celebrate  happy  events.  fc  They  are  beat- 
ing to  arms,"  say  the  French  peasants. 
And  then  the  strange  home  will  at  once 
be  accepted,  and  its  remotest  corners 
explored ;  its  position  in  the  apiary,  its 
126 


The  Swarm 

form,  its  colour,  are  grasped  and  retained 
in  these  thousands  of  prudent  and  faithful 
little  memories.  Careful  note  is  taken  of 
the  neighbouring  landmarks,  the  new  city 
is  founded,  and  its  place  established  in  the 
mind  and  the  heart  of  all  its  inhabitants ; 
the  walls  resound  with  the  love-hymn  of 
the  royal  presence,  and  work  begins. 

[39] 

But  if  the  swarm  be  not  gathered  by 
man,  its  history  will  not  end  here.  It 
will  remain  suspended  on  the  branch  un- 
til the  return  of  the  workers,  who,  acting 
as  scouts,  winged  quartermasters,  as  it 
were,  have  at  the  very  first  moment  of 
swarming  sallied  forth  in  all  directions  in 
search  of  a  lodging.  They  return  one  by 
one,  and  render  account  of  their  mission ; 
and  as  it  is  manifestly  impossible  for  us  to 
fathom  the  thought  of  the  bees,  we  can 
only  interpret  in  human  fashion  the  spec- 
"7 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

tacle  that  they  present.  We  may  regard 
h  as  probable,  therefore,  that  most  careful 
attention  is  given  to  the  reports  of  the 
various  scouts.  One  of  them  it  may  be, 
dwells  on  the  advantage  of  some  hollow 
tree  it  has  seen ;  another  is  in  favour  of  a 
crevice  in  a  ruinous  wall,  of  a  cavity  in  a 
grotto,  or  an  abandoned  burrow.  The 
assembly  often  will  pause  and  deliberate 
until  the  following  morning.  Then  at 
last  the  choice  is  made,  and  approved  by 
all.  At  a  given  moment  the  entire  mass 
stirs,  disunites,  sets  in  motion,  and  then, 
in  one  sustained  and  impetuous  flight, 
that  this  time  knows  no  obstacle,  it  will 
steer  its  straight  course,  over  hedges  and 
cornfields,  over  haystack  and  lake,  over 
river  and  village,  to  its  determined  and 
always  distant  goal.  It  is  rarely  indeed 
that  this  second  stage  can  be  followed  by 
man.  The  swarm  returns  to  nature ;  and 
we  lose  the  track  of  its  destiny; 
128 


Ill 

THE    FOUNDATION   OF  THE 
CITY 


iao 


Ill 

THE   FOUNDATION   OF   THE 
CITY 

[40] 

LET  us  rather  consider  the  proceedings 
of  the  swarm  the  apiarist  shall  have 
gathered  into  his  hive.  And  first  of  all 
let  us  not  be  forgetful  of  the  sacrifice  these 
fifty  thousand  virgins  have  made,  who,  as 
Ronsard  sings, — 

"  In  a  little  body  bear  so  true  a  heart,  —  " 

and  let  us,  yet  once  again,  admire  the 
courage  with  which  they  begin  life  anew 
in  the  desert  whereon  they  have  fallen. 
They  have  forgotten  the  splendour  and 
wealth  of  their  native  city,  where  existence 
had  been  so  admirably  organised  and 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

certain,  where  the  essence  of  every  flower 
reminiscent  of  sunshine  had  enabled  them 
to  smile  at  the  menace  of  winter.  There, 
asleep  in  the  depths  of  their  cradles,  they 
have  left  thousands  and  thousands  of 
daughters,  whom  they  never  again  will 
see.  They  have  abandoned,  not  only  the 
enormous  treasure  of  pollen  and  propolis 
they  had  gathered  together,  but  also  more 
than  1 20  pounds  of  honey;  a  quantity 
representing  more  than  twelve  times  the 
entire  weight  of  the  population,  and  close 
on  600,000  times  that  of  the  individual 
bee.  To  man  this  would  mean  42,000 
tons  of  provisions,  a  vast  fleet  of  mighty 
ships  laden  with  nourishment  more  pre- 
cious than  any  known  to  us ;  for  to  the 
bee  honey  is  a  kind  of  liquid  life,  a  species 
of  chyle  that  is  at  once  assimilated,  with 
almost  no  waste  whatever. 

Here,  in  the  new  abode,  there  is  noth- 
ing ;  not  a  drop  of  honey,  not  a  morsel  of 
132 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

wax;  neither  guiding-mark  nor  point  of 
support.  There  is  only  the  dreary  emp- 
tiness of  an  enormous  monument  that  has 
nothing  but  sides  and  roof.  Within  the 
smooth  and  rounded  walls  there  only  is 
darkness ;  and  the  enormous  arch  above 
rears  itself  over  nothingness.  But  useless 
regrets  are  unknown  to  the  bee;  or  in  any 
event  it  does  not  allow  them  to  hinder  its 
action.  Far  from  being  cast  down  by  an 
ordeal  before  which  every  other  courage 
would  succumb,  it  displays  greater  ardour 
than  ever.  Scarcely  has  the  hive  been 
set  in  its  place,  or  the  disorder  allayed  that; 
ensued  on  the  bees'  tumultuous  fall,  when 
we  behold  the  clearest,  most  unexpected 
division  in  that  entangled  mass.  The 
greater  portion,  forming  in  solid  columns, 
like  an  army  obeying  a  definite  order,  will 
proceed  to  climb  the  vertical  walls  of  the 
hive.  The  cupola  reached,  the  first  to 
arrive  will  cling  with  the  claws  of  their 
tSEP 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

anterior  legs,  those  that  follow  hang  on  to 
the  first,  and  so  in  succession,  until  long 
chains  have  been  formed  that  serve  as  a 
bridge  to  the  crowd  that  rises  and  rises. 
And,  by  slow  degrees,  these  chains,  as 
their  number  increases,  supporting  each 
other  and  incessantly  interweaving,  be- 
come garlands  which,  in  their  turn,  the 
uninterrupted  and  constant  ascension 
transforms  into  a  thick,  triangular  curtain, 
or  rather  a  kind  of  compact  and  inverted 
cone,  whose  apex  attains  the  summit  of 
the  cupola,  while  its  widening  base  de- 
scends to  a  half,  or  two-thirds,  of  the 
entire  height  of  the  hive.  And  then,  the 
last  bee  that  an  inward  voice  has  impelled 
to  form  part  of  this  group  having  added 
itself  to  the  curtain  suspended  in  darkness, 
the  ascension  ceases  ;  all  movement  slowly 
dies  away  in  the  dome ;  and,  for  long 
hours,  this  strange  inverted  cone  will  wait, 
in  a  silence  that  almost  seems  awful,  in  a 
134 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

stillness  one  might  regard  as  religious,  for 
the  mystery  of  wax  to  appear. 

In  the  meantime  the  rest  of  the  bees  — 
those,  that  is,  that  remained  down  below 
in  the  hive  —  have  shown  not  the  slightest 
desire  to  join  the  others  aloft,  and  pay  no 
heed  to  the  formation  of  the  marvellous 
curtain  on  whose  folds  a  magical  gift  is 
soon  to  descend.  They  are  satisfied  to 
examine  the  edifice  and  undertake  the 
necessary  labours.  They  carefully  sweep 
the  floor,  and  remove,  one  by  one,  twigs, 
grains  of  sand,  and  dead  leaves ;  for  the 
bees  are  almost  fanatically  cleanly,  and 
when,  in  the  depths  of  winter,  severe 
frosts  retard  too  long  what  apiarists  term 
their  "flight  of  cleanliness,"  rather  than 
sully  the  hive  they  will  perish  by  thou- 
sands of  a  terrible  bowel-disease.  The 
males  alone  are  incurably  careless,  and  will 
impudently  bestrew  the  surface  of  the  comb 
with  their  droppings,  which  the  worker* 
135 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

are  obliged  to  sweep  as  they  hasten  behind 


The  cleaning  over,  the  bees  of  the  pro- 
fane group  that  form  no  part  of  the  cone 
suspended  in  a  sort  of  ecstasy,  set  to  work 
minutely  to  survey  the  lower  circumference 
of  the  common  dwelling.  Every  crevice 
is  passed  in  review,  and  filled,  covered 
over  with  propolis  ;  and  the  varnishing  of 
the  walls  is  begun,  from  top  to  bottom. 
Guards  are  appointed  to  take  their  stand 
at  the  gate;  and  very  soon  a  certain 
number  of  workers  will  go  to  the  fields 
and  return  with  their  burden  of  pollen. 

[41] 

Before  raising  the  folds  of  the  mysteri- 
ous curtain  beneath  whose  shelter  are  laid 
the  veritable  foundations  of  the  home,  let 
us  endeavour  to  form  some  conception  of 
the  sureness  of  vision,  the  accurate  cal- 
culation and  industry  our  little  people 
136 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

of  emigrants  will  be  called  to  display 
in  order  to  adapt  this  new  dwelling  to 
their  requirements.  In  the  void  round 
about  them  they  must  lay  the  plans  for 
their  city,  and  logically  mark  out  the  site 
of  the  edifices  that  must  be  erected  as 
economically  and  quickly  as  possible,  for 
the  queen,  eager  to  lay,  already  is  scat- 
tering her  eggs  on  the  ground.  And  in 
this  labyrinth  of  complicated  buildings, 
so  far  existing  only  in  imagination,  laws 
of  ventilation  must  be  considered,  of 
stability,  solidity ;  resistance  of  the  wax 
must  not  be  lost  sight  of,  or  the  nature 
of  the  food  to  be  stored,  or  the  habits 
of  the  queen  ;  ready  access  must  be  con- 
trived to  all  parts,  and  careful  attention 
be  given  to  the  distribution  of  stores  and 
houses,  passages  and  streets,  —  this  how- 
ever is  in  some  measure  pre-established, 
the  plan  already  arrived  at  being  organi- 
cally the  best,  —  and  there  are  countless 
'37 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

problems     besides,     whose     enumeration 
would  take  too  long. 

Now,  the  form  of  the  hive  that  man 
offers  to  the  bee  knows  infinite  variety, 
from  the  hollow  tree  or  earthenware  vessel 
still  obtaining  in  Asia  and  Africa,  and  the 
familiar  bell-shaped  constructions  of  straw 
which  we  find  in  our  farmers'  kitchen- 
gardens  or  beneath  their  windows,  lost 
beneath  masses  of  sunflowers,  phlox,  and 
hollyhock,  to  what  may  really  be  termed 
the  factory  of  the  model  apiarist  of  to- 
day. An  edifice,  this,  that  can  contain 
more  than  three  hundred  pounds  of 
honey,  in  three  or  four  stories  of  super- 
posed combs  enclosed  in  a  frame  which 
permits  of  their  being  removed  and 
handled,  of  the  harvest  being  extracted 
through  centrifugal  force  by  means  of 
a  turbine,  and  of  their  being  then  re- 
stored to  their  place  like  a  book  in  a 
well-ordered  library. 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

And  one  fine  day  the  industry  of 
caprice  of  man  will  install  a  docile  swarm 
in  one  of  these  disconcerting  abodes.  And 
there  the  little  insect  is  expected  to  learn 
its  bearings,  to  find  its  way,  to  establish 
its  home ;  to  modify  the  seemingly  un- 
changeable plans  dictated  by  the  nature 
of  things.  In  this  unfamiliar  place  it 
is  required  to  determine  the  site  of  the 
winter  storehouses,  that  must  not  extend 
beyond  the  zone  of  heat  that  issues  from 
the  half-numbed  inhabitants ;  it  must 
divine  the  exact  point  where  the  brood- 
cells  shall  concentrate,  under  penalty  of 
disaster  should  these  be  too  high  or  too 
low,  too  near  to  or  far  from  the  door. 
The  swarm,  it  may  be,  has  just  left 
the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  containing 
one  long,  narrow,  depressed,  horizon- 
tal gallery ;  and  it  finds  itself  now 
in  a  tower-shaped  edifice,  whose  roof  is 
lost  in  gloom.  Or,  to  take  a  case  that 
139 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 
is  more  usual,  perhaps,  and  one  that 
will  give  some  idea  of  the  surprise  habit- 
ually in  store  for  the  bees:  after  having 
lived  for  centuries  past  beneath  the 
straw  dome  of  our  village  hives,  they 
are  suddenly  transplanted  to  a  species 
of  mighty  cupboard,  or  chest,  three  or 
four  times  as  large  as  the  place  of  their 
birth  ;  and  installed  in  the  midst  of  a  con- 
fused scaffolding  of  superposed  frames, 
some  running  parallel  to  the  entrance  and 
some  perpendicular;  the  whole  forming 
a  bewildering  network  that  obscures  thr 
Surfaces  of  their  dwelling. 


And  yet,  for  all  this,  there  exists  not 
a  single  instance  of  a  swarm  refusing  its 
duty,  or  allowing  itself  to  be  baffled  or 
discouraged  by  the  strangeness  of  its  sur- 
roundings, except  only  in  the  case  of  the 
new  dwelling  being  absolutely  uninhabi- 

140 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

table,  or  impregnated  with  evil  odours, 
And  even  then  the  bees  will  not  be  dis- 
heartened or  bewildered ;  even  then  they 
will  not  abandon  their  mission.  The 
swarm  will  simply  forsake  the  inhospi- 
table abode,  to  seek  better  fortune  some 
little  distance  away.  And  similarly  it  can 
never  be  said  of  them  that  they  can  be 
induced  to  undertake  any  illogical  or 
foolish  task.  Their  common-sense  has 
never  been  known  to  fail  them ;  they 
have  never,  at  a  loss  for  definite  decision, 
erected  at  haphazard  structures  of  a  wild  or 
heterogeneous  nature.  Though  you  place 
the  swarm  in  a  sphere,  a  cube,  or  a  pyra- 
mid, in  an  oval  or  polygonal  basket,  you 
will  find,  on  visiting  the  bees  a  few  days 
later,  that  if  this  strange  assembly  of  little 
independent  intellects  has  accepted  the  new 
abode,  they  will  at  once,  and  unhesitatingly 
and  unanimously  have  known  how  to  select 
the  most  favourable,  often  humanly  speak- 
141 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 
ing  the  only  possible  spot  in  this  absurd 
habitation,    in    pursuance    of    a    method 
whose    principles    may   appear  inflexible, 
but  whose  results  are  strikingly  vivid. 

When  installed  in  one  of  the  huge  fac- 
tories, bristling  with  frames,  that  we  men- 
tioned just  now,  these  frames  will  interest 
them  only  to  the  extent  in  which  they 
provide  them  with  a  basis  or  point  of 
departure  for  their  combs ;  and  they 
very  naturally  pay  not  the  slightest  heed 
to  the  desires  or  intentions  of  man.  But 
if  the  apiarist  have  taken  the  precaution 
of  surrounding  the  upper  lath  of  some  of 
these  frames  with  a  narrow  fillet  of  wax, 
they  will  be  quick  to  perceive  the  advan- 
tage this  tempting  offer  presents,  and  will 
carefully  extract  the  fillet,  using  their  own 
wax  as  solder,  and  will  prolong  the  comb 
in  accordance  with  the  indicated  plan. 
Similarly  —  and  the  case  is  frequent  in 
modern  apiculture  —  if  all  the  frames  of* 
142 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

the  hive  into  which  the  bees  have  been 
gathered  be  covered  from  top  to  •  bottom 
with  leaves  of  foundation-wax,  they  will 
not  waste  time  in  erecting  buildings  across 
or  beside  these,  or  in  producing  useless 
wax,  but,  finding  that  the  work  is  already 
half  finished,  they  will  be  satisfied  to 
deepen  and  lengthen  each  of  the  cells 
designed  in  the  leaf,  carefully  rectifying 
these  where  there  is  the  slightest  devia- 
tion from  the  strictest  vertical.  Proceed- 
ing in  this  fashion,  therefore,  they  will 
possess  in  a  week  a  city  as  luxurious  and 
well-constructed  as  the  one  they  have 
quitted ;  whereas,  had  they  been  thrown 
on  their  own  resources,  it  would  have 
taken  them  two  or  three  months  to  con- 
struct so  great  a  profusion  of  dwellings 
and  storehouses  of  shining  wax. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[43] 

This  power  of  appropriation  may  well 
6e  considered  to  overstep  the  limit  of 
instinct ;  and  indeed  there  can  be  nothing 
more  arbitrary  than  the  distinction  we 
draw  between  instinct  and  intelligence 
properly  so-called.  Sir  John  Lubbock, 
whose  observations  on  ants,  bees,  and 
wasps  are  so  interesting  and  so  personal, 
is  reluctant  to  credit  the  bee,  from  the 
moment  it  forsakes  the  routine  of  its 
habitual  labour,  with  any  power  of  discern- 
ment or  reasoning.  This  attitude  of  his 
may  be  due  in  some  measure  to  an  uncon- 
scious bias  in  favour  of  the  ants,  whose 
ways  he  has  more  specially  noted ;  for  the 
entomologist  is  always  inclined  to  regard 
that  insect  as  the  more  intelligent  to  which 
he  has  more  particularly  devoted  himself, 
and  we  have  to  be  on  our  guard  against 
this  little  personal  predilection.  As  a 

144 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

proof  of  his  theory,  Sir  John  cites  as  an 
instance  an  experiment  within  the  reach  of 
all.  If  you  place  in  a  bottle  half  a  dozen 
bees  and  the  same  number  of  flies,  and 
lay  the  bottle  down  horizontally,  with  its 
base  to  the  window,  you  will  find  that  the 
bees  will  persist,  till  they  die  of  exhaustion 
or  hunger,  in  their  endeavour  to  discover 
an  issue  through  the  glass ;  while  the 
flies,  in  less  than  two  minutes,  will  all 
have  sallied  forth  through  the  neck  on 
the  opposite  side.  From  this  Sir  John 
Lubbock  concludes  that  the  intelligence 
of  the  bee  is  exceedingly  limited,  and  that 
the  fly  shows  far  greater  skill  in  extricat- 
ing itself  from  a  difficulty,  and  finding  its 
way.  This  conclusion,  however,  would 
not  seem  altogether  flawless.  Turn  the 
transparent  sphere  twenty  times,  if  you 
will,  holding  now  the  base,  now  the  neck, 
to  the  window,  and  you  will  find  that  the 
bees  will  turn  twenty  times  with  it,  so  as 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

always  to  face  the  light.  It  is  their  love  of 
the  light,  it  is  their  very  intelligence,  that 
is  their  undoing  in  this  experiment  of  the 
English  savant.  They  evidently  imagine 
that  the  issue  from  every  prison  must  be 
there  where  the  light  shines  clearest ;  and 
they  act  in  accordance,  and  persist  in  too 
logical  action.  To  them  glass  is  a  super- 
natural mystery  they  never  have  met 
with  in  nature ;  they  have  had  no  ex- 
perience of  this  suddenly  impenetrable 
atmosphere ;  and,  the  greater  their  in- 
telligence, the  more  inadmissible,  more 
incomprehensible,  will  the  strange  ob- 
stacle appear.  Whereas  the  feather- 
brained flies,  careless  of  logic  as  of  the 
enigma  of  crystal,  disregarding  the  call  of 
the  light,  flutter  wildly  hither  and  thither, 
and,  meeting  here  the  good  fortune  that 
often  waits  on  the  simple,  who  find 
salvation  there  where  the  wiser  will 
perish,  necessarily  end  by  discovering 

146 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 
the  friendly  opening   that   restores   theii 
liberty  to  them. 

The  same  naturalist  cites  yet  anothei 
proof  of  the  bees'  iack  of  intelligence,  and 
discovers  it  in  the  following  quotation 
from  the  great  American  apiarist,  the 
venerable  and  paternal  Langstroth  :  — 

"  As  the  fly  was  not  intended  to  ban- 
quet on  blossoms,  but  on  substances  in 
which  it  might  easily  be  drowned,  it 
cautiously  alights  on  the  edge  of  any 
vessel  containing  liquid  food,  and  warily 
helps  itself;  while  the  poor  bee,  plunging 
in  headlong,  speedily  perishes.  The  sad 
fate  of  their  unfortunate  companions  does 
not  in  the  least  deter  others  who  approach 
the  tempting  lure  from  madly  alighting 
on  the  bodies  of  the  dying  and  the  dead, 
to  share  the  same  miserable  end.  No  one 
can  understand  the  extent  of  their  infatua- 
tion until  he  has  seen  a  confectioner's 
shop  assailed  by  myriads  of  hungry  bees. 
147 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

I  have  seen  thousands  strained  out  from 
the  syrups  in  which  they  had  perished  ; 
thousands  more  alighting  even  on  the 
boiling  sweets ;  the  floors  covered  and  win^ 
dows  darkened  with  bees,  some  crawling, 
others  flying,  and  others  still  so  completely 
besmeared  as  to  be  able  neither  to  crawl 
nor  to  fly  —  not  one  in  ten  able  to  carry 
home  its  ill-gotten  spoils,  and  yet  the 
air  filled  with  new  hosts  of  thoughtless 
comers." 

This,  however,  seems  to  me  no  more 
conclusive  than  might  be  the  spectacle  of 
a  battlefield,  or  of  the  ravages  of  alcohol- 
ism, to  a  superhuman  observer  bent  on 
establishing  the  limits  of  human  under^ 
standing.  Indeed,  less  so,  perhaps  ;  fov 
the  situation  of  the  bee,  when  compared 
with  our  own,  is  strange  in  this  world. 
It  was  intended  to  live  in  the  midst  of  an 
indifferent  and  unconscious  nature,  and 
not  by  the  side  of  an  extraordinary  being 
148 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

who  is  forever  disturbing  the  most  con- 
stant laws,  and  producing  grandiose,  inex- 
plicable phenomena.  In  the  natural  order 
of  things,  in  the  monotonous  life  of  the 
forest,  the  madness  Langstroth  describes 
would  be  possible  only  were  some  accident 
suddenly  to  destroy  a  hive  full  of  honey. 
But  in  this  case,  even,  there  would  be  no 
fatal  glass,  no  boiling  sugar  or  cloying 
syrup ;  no  death  or  danger,  therefore, 
other  than  that  to  which  every  animal  is 
exposed  while  seeking  its  prey. 

Should  we  be  mere  successful  than 
they  in  preserving  our  presence  of  mind 
if  some  strange  power  were  at  every  step 
to  ensnare  our  reason?  Let  us  not  be 
too  hasty  in  condemning  the  bees  for  the 
folly  whereof  we  are  the  authors,  or  in  de- 
riding their  intellect,  which  is  as  poorly 
equipped  to  foil  our  artifices  as  our  own 
would  be  to  foil  those  of  some  superior 
creature  unknown  to  us  to-day,  but  on 

149 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

that  account  not  impossible.  None  such 
being  known  at  present,  we  conclude  that 
we  stand  on  the  topmost  pinnacle  of  life 
on  this  earth ;  but  this  belief,  after  all, 
is  by  no  means  infallible.  I  am  not 
assuming  that  when  our  actions  are  un- 
reasonable, or  contemptible,  we  merely 
fall  into  the  snares  that  such  a  creature 
has  laid;  though  it  is  not  inconceivable 
that  this  should  one  day  be  proved  true. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  cannot  be  wise  to 
deny  intelligence  to  the  bee  because  it  has 
not  yet  succeeded  in  distinguishing  us 
from  the  great  ape  or  the  bear.  It  is 
certain  that  there  are,  in  us  and  about 
us,  influences  and  powers  no  less  dis- 
similar whose  distinction  escapes  us  as 
readily. 

And  finally,  to  end  this  apology,  where- 
in I  seem  somewhat  to  have  fallen  into 
the  error  I  laid  to  Sir  John  Lubbock's 
charge,  does  not  the  capacity  for  folly  so 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 

great  in  itself  argue  intelligence?  For 
thus  it  is  ever  in  the  uncertain  domain  of 
the  intellect,  apparently  the  most  vacillat- 
ing and  precarious  condition  of  matter. 
The  same  light  that  falls  on  the  intellect 
falls  also  on  passion,  whereof  none  can 
tell  whether  it  be  the  smoke  of  the  flame 
or  the  wick.  In  the  case  above  it  has  not 
been  mere  animal  desire  to  gorge  them- 
selves with  honey  that  has  urged  on  the 
bees.  They  could  do  this  at  their  leisure 
in  the  store-rooms  at  home.  Watch  them 
in  an  analogous  circumstance;  follow  them  ; 
you  will  see  that,  as  soon  as  their  sac  is 
filled,  they  will  return  to  the  hive  and 
add  their  spoil  to  the  general  store ;  and 
visit  the  marvellous  vintage,  and  leave  it, 
perhaps  thirty  times  in  an  hour.  Their 
admirable  labours,  therefore,  are  inspired 
by  a  single  desire  :  zeal  to  bring  as  much 
wealth  as  they  can  to  the  home  of  their 
sisters,  which  is  also  the  home  of  the 
151 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

future.  When  we  discover  a  cause  as 
disinterested  for  the  follies  of  men,  we  are 
apt  to  call  them  by  another  name. 

[44] 

However,  the  whole  truth  must  be  told. 
In  the  midst  of  the  marvels  of  their  indus- 
try, their  policy,  their  sacrifice,  one  thing 
exists  that  must  always  check  and  weaken 
our  admiration  ;  and  this  is  the  indifference 
with  which  they  regard  the  misfortunes  01 
death  of  their  comrades.  There  is  n 
strange  duality  in  the  character  of  the 
bee.  In  the  heart  of  the  hive  all  help 
and  love  each  other.  They  are  as  united 
as  the  good  thoughts  that  dwell  in  the 
same  soul.  Wound  one  of  them,  and 
a  thousand  will  sacrifice  themselves  to 
avenge  its  injury.  But  outside  the  hive 
they  no  longer  recognise  each  other. 
Mutilate  them,  crush  them,  —  or  rather, 
do  nothing  of  the  kind ;  it  would  be  a 
152 


The  Foundation  01  tne  City 

useless  cruelty,  for  the  fact  is  established 
beyond  any  doubt,  —  but  were  you  to 
mutilate,  or  crush,  on  a  piece  of  comb 
placed  a  few  steps  from  their  dwelling, 
twenty  or  thirty  bees  that  have  all  issued 
from  the  same  hive,  those  you  have  left 
untouched  will  not  even  turn  their  heads. 
With  their  tongue,  fantastic  as  a  Chinese 
weapon,  they  will  tranquilly  continue  to 
absorb  the  liquid  they  hold  more  precious 
than  life,  heedless  of  the  agony  whose 
last  gestures  almost  are  touching  them, 
of  the  cries  of  distress  that  arise  all 
iround.  And  when  the  comb  is  empty, 
so  great  is  their  anxiety  that  nothing  shall 
be  lost,  that  their  eagerness  to  gather  the 
honey  which  clings  to  the  victims  will  in- 
duce them  tranquilly  to  climb  over  dead 
and  dying,  unmoved  by  the  presence  of 
the  first  and  never  dreaming  of  helping 
the  others.  In  this  case,  therefore,  they 
have  no  notion  of  the  danger  they  run, 
'S3 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

seeing  that  they  are  wholly  untroubled  by 
the  death  that  is  scattered  about  them,  and 
they  have  not  the  slightest  sense  of  soli- 
darity or  pity.  As  regards  the  danger, 
the  explanation  lies  ready  to  hand;  the 
bees  know  not  the  meaning  of  fear,  and, 
with  the  exception  only  of  smoke,  are 
afraid  of  nothing  in  the  world.  Outside 
the  hive,  they  display  extreme  condescen- 
sion and  forbearance.  They  will  avoid 
whatever  disturbs  them,  and  affect  to  ig- 
nore its  existence,  so  long  as  it  come  not 
too  close ;  as  though  aware  that  this  uni- 
verse belongs  to  all,  that  each  one  has  his 
place  there,  and  must  needs  be  discreet  and 
peaceful.  But  beneath  this  indulgence  is 
quietly  hidden  a  heart  so  sure  of  itself  that 
it  never  dreams  of  protesting.  If  they  are 
threatened,  they  will  alter  their  course,  but 
never  attempt  to  escape.  In  the  hive, 
however,  they  will  not  confine  themselves 
to  this  passive  ignoring  of  peril.  They 


The  Foundation  of  the  City 
will  spring  with  incredible  fury  on  any 
living  thing,  ant  or  lion  or  man,  that 
dares  to  profane  the  sacred  ark.  This 
we  may  term  anger,  ridiculous  obsti- 
nacy, or  heroism,  according  as  our  mind 
be  disposed. 

But  of  their  want  of  solidarity  outside 
the  hive,  and  even  of  sympathy  within  it, 
I  can  find  nothing  to  say.  Are  we  to 
believe  that  each  form  of  intellect  possesses 
its  own  strange  limitation,  and  that  the 
tiny  flame  which  with  so  much  difficulty 
at  last  burns  its  way  through  inert  matter 
and  issues  forth  from  the  brain,  is  still  so 
uncertain  that  if  it  illumine  one  point  more 
strongly  the  others  are  forced  into  blacker 
darkness  ?  Here  we  find  that  the  bees  (or 
nature  acting  within  them)  have  organised 
work  in  common,  the  love  and  cult  of  the 
future,  in  a  manner  more  perfect  than  can 
elsewhere  be  discovered,  Is  it  for  this 
reason  that  they  have  lost  sight  of  all  the 
155 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

rest?  They  give  their  love  to  what  lies 
ahead  of  them  ;  we  bestow  ours  on  what  is 
around.  And  we  who  love  here,  perhaps, 
have  no  love  left  for  what  is  beyond. 
Nothing  varies  so  much  as  the  direction 
of  pity  or  charity.  We  ourselves  should 
formerly  have  been  far  less  shocked  than 
we  are  to-day  at  the  insensibility  of  the 
bees  ;  and  to  many  an  ancient  people  such 
conduct  would  not  have  seemed  blame- 
worthy. And  further,  can  we  tell  how 
many  of  the  things  that  we  do  would 
shock  a  being  who  might  be  watching 
Us  as  we  watch  the  bees  ? 


156 


IV 

THE   LIFE   OF   THE   BEE 


157 


IV 

THE   LIFE   OF   THE   BEE 

C45] 

T  ET  us  now,  in  order  to  form  a 
-i— '  clearer  conception  of  the  bees'  in* 
tellectual  power,  proceed  to  consider  theii 
methods  of  inter-communication.  There 
can  be  no  doubting  that  they  understand 
each  other;  and  indeed  it  were  surely 
impossible  for  a  republic  so  considerable, 
wherein  the  labours  are  so  varied  and  so 
marvellously  combined,  to  subsist  amid 
the  silence  and  spiritual  isolation  of  so 
many  thousand  creatures.  They  must  be 
able,  therefore,  to  give  expression  to 
thoughts  and  feelings,  by  means  either 
of  a  phonetic  vocabulary  or  more  prob- 
'59 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ably  of  some  kind  of  tactile  language  or 
magnetic  intuition,  corresponding  per- 
haps to  senses  and  properties  of  matter 
wholly  unknown  to  ourselves.  And  such 
intuition  well  might  lodge  in  the  myste- 
rious antennas  —  containing,  in  the  case 
of  the  workers,  according  to  Cheshire's 
calculation,  twelve  thousand  tactile  hairs 
and  five  thousand  "  smell-hollows,"  where- 
with they  probe  and  fathom  the  darkness. 
t^or  the  mutual  understanding  of  the  bees 
is  not  confined  to  their  habitual  labours ; 
the  extraordinary  also  has  a  name  and 
place  in  their  language ;  as  is  proved  by 
the  manner  in  which  news,  good  or  bad, 
normal  or  supernatural,  will  at  once  spread 
in  the  hive ;  the  loss  or  return  of  the 
mother,  for  instance,  the  entrance  of  an 
enemy,  the  intrusion  of  a  strange  queen, 
the  approach  of  a  band  of  marauders,  the 
discovery  of  treasure,  etc.  And  so  char- 
acteristic is  their  attitude,  so  essentially 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

different  their  murmur  at  each  of  these 
special  events,  that  the  experienced  apia- 
rist can  without  difficulty  tell  what  is 
troubling  the  crowd  that  moves  dis- 
tractedly to  and  fro  in  the  shadow. 

If  you  desire  a  more  definite  proof,  you 
have  but  to  watch  a  bee  that  shall  just 
have  discovered  a  few  drops  of  honey  on 
jyour  window-sill  or  the  corner  of  your 
'  table.  She  will  immediately  gorge  herself 
with  it ;  and  so  eagerly,  that  you  will 
have  time,  without  fear  of  disturbing  her, 
to  mark  her  tiny  belt  with  a  touch  of  paint. 
But  this  gluttony  of  hers  is  all  on  the 
surface ;  the  honey  will  not  pass  into  the 
stomach  proper,  into  what  we  might  call 
her  personal  stomach,  but  remains  in  the 
sac,  the  first  stomach,  —  that  of  the  com- 
munity, if  one  may  so  express  it.  This 
reservoir  full,  the  bee  will  depart,  but  not 
with  the  free  and  thoughtless  motion  of  the 
fly  or  butterfly ;  she,  on  the  contrary,  wiJJ 
M  161 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

for  some  moments  fly  backwards,  hovering 
eagerly  about  the  table  or  window,  with 
her  head  turned  toward  the  room. 

She  is  reconnoitring,  fixing  in  her 
memory  the  exact  position  of  the  treasure. 
Thereupon  she  will  go  to  the  hive,  dis- 
gorge her  plunder  into  one  of  the  provi- 
sion-cells, and  in  three  or  four  minutes 
return,  and  resume  operations  at  the 
providential  window.  And  thus,  while 
the  honey  lasts,  will  she  come  and  go, 
at  intervals  of  every  five  minutes,  till 
evening,  if  need  be ;  without  interruption 
or  rest ;  pursuing  her  regular  journeys 
from  the  hive  to  the  window,  from  the 
window  back  to  the  hive. 

[46] 

Many  of  those  who  have  written  on 

bees  have  thought  fit  to  adorn  the  truth ; 

I    myself    have     no    such    desire.      For 

studies   of    this    description    to    possess 

162 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

any  interest,  it  is  essential  that  they 
should  remain  absolutely  sincere.  Had 
the  conclusion  been  forced  upon  me  that 
bees  are  incapable  of  communicating  to 
each  other  news  of  an  event  occurring 
outside  the  hive,  I  should,  I  imagine,  as 
a  set-off  against  the  slight  disappoint- 
ment this  discovery  would  have  entailed, 
have  derived  some  degree  of  satisfaction 
in  recognising  once  more  that  man,  after 
;  all,  is  the  only  truly  intelligent  being  who 
inhabits  our  globe.  And  there  comes 
too  a  period  of  life  when  we  have  more 
joy  in  saying  the  thing  that  is  true  than 
in  saying  the  thing  that  merely  is  wonder- 
ful. Here  as  in  every  case  the  principle 
holds  that,  should  the  naked  truth  appear 
at  the  moment  less  interesting,  less  great 
and  noble  than  the  imaginary  embellish- 
ment it  lies  in  our  power  to  bestow,  the 
fault  must  rest  with  ourselves  who  still 
are  unable  to  perceive  the  astonishing 
163 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

relation  in  which  this  truth  always  must 
stand  to  our  being,  and  to  universal  law ; 
and  in  that  case  it  is  not  the  truth,  but 
our  intellect,  that  needs  embellishment 
and  ennoblement. 

I  will  frankly  confess,  therefore,  that 
the  marked  bee  often  returns  alone. 
Shall  we  believe  that  in  bees  there  exists 
the  same  difference  of  character  as  in 
men ;  that  of  them  too  some  are  gossips, 
and  others  prone  to  silence  ?  A  friend 
who  stood  by  and  watched  my  experi- 
ment, declared  that  it  was  evidently  mere 
selfishness  or  vanity  that  caused  so  many 
of  the  bees  to  refrain  from  revealing  the 
source  of  their  wealth,  and  from  sharing 
with  others  the  glory  of  an  achievement 
that  must  seem  miraculous  to  the  hive. 
These  were  sad  vices  indeed,  which  give 
not  forth  the  sweet  odour,  so  fragrant 
and  loyal,  that  springs  from  the  home  of 
the  many  thousand  sisters.  But,  what- 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ever  the  cause,  it  often  will  also  happen 
that  the  bee  whom  fortune  has  favoured 
will  return  to  the  honey  accompanied  by 
two  or  three  friends.  I  am  aware  that 
Sir  John  Lubbock,  in  the  appendix  to 
his  book  on  "  Ants,  Bees,  and  Wasps," 
records  the  results  of  his  investigations 
in  long  and  minute  tables ;  and  from 
these  we  are  led  to  infer  that  it  is  a  matter 
of  rarest  occurrence  for  a  single  bee  to 
follow  the  one  who  has  made  the  dis- 
covery. The  learned  naturalist  does  not 
name  the  race  of  bees  which  he  selected 
for  his  experiments,  or  tell  us  whether 
the  conditions  were  especially  unfavour- 
able. As  for  myself  I  only  can  say  that 
my  own  tables,  compiled  with  great  care, 
—-and  every  possible  precaution  having 
been  taken  that  the  bees  should  not  be 
directly  attracted  by  the  odour  of  the 
honey,  —  establish  that  on  an  average  OM 
bee  will  bring  others  four  times  out  of  ten 
165 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

I  even  one  day  came  across  an  extraor- 
dinary little  Italian  bee,  whose  belt  I  had 
marked  with  a  touch  of  blue  paint.  In 
her  second  trip  she  brought  two  of  her 
sisters,  whom  I  imprisoned,  without  in- 
terfering with  her.  She  departed  once 
more,  and  this  time  returned  with  three 
friends,  whom  I  again  confined,  and  so 
till  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  when,  count- 
ing my  prisoners,  I  found  that  she  had 
told  the  news  to  no  less  than  eighteen 
bees. 

In  fact  you  will  find,  if  you  make  this 
experiment  yourself,  that  communication, 
if  not  general,  at  least  is  frequent.  The 
possession  of  this  faculty  is  so  well 
known  to  American  bee-hunters  that  they 
trade  upon  it  when  engaged  in  searching 
for  nests.  Mr.  Josiah  Emery  remarks 
on  this  head  (quoted  by  Romanes  in 
his  "  Intellect  of  Animals  ") :  "  Going 
to  a  field  or  wood  at  a  distance  from 
1 66 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

tame  bees  with  their  box  of  honey,  they 
gather  up  from  the  flowers  and  imprison 
one  or  more  bees,  and  after  they  have 
become  sufficiently  gorged,  let  them  out 
to  return  to  their  home  with  their  easily 
gotten  load.  Waiting  patiently  a  longer 
or  shorter  time,  according  to  the  distance 
of  the  bee-tree,  the  hunter  scarcely  ever 
fails  to  see  the  bee  or  bees  return  accom- 
panied by  other  bees,  which  are  in  like 
manner  imprisoned  till  they  in  turn  are 
filled ;  then  one  or  more  are  let  out  at 
places  distant  from  each  other,  and  the 
direction  in  which  the  bee  flies  noted; 
and  thus,  by  a  kind  of  triangulation,  the 
position  of  the  bee-tree  proximately 
ascertained." 

[47] 

You  will    notice  too   in    your   experi- 
ments   that   the    friends   who    appear   to 
obey  the  behests  of  good  fortune  do  not 
161 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

always  fly  together,  and  that  there  will 
often  be  an  interval  of  several  seconds  be- 
tween the  different  arrivals.  As  regards 
these  communications,  therefore,  we  must 
ask  ourselves  the  question  that  Sir  John 
Lubbock  has  solved  as  far  as  the  ants  are 
concerned. 

Do  the  comrades  who  flock  to  the  treas- 
ure only  follow  the  bee  that  first  made  the 
discovery,  or  have  they  been  sent  on  by 
her,  and  do  they  find  it  through  following 
her  indications,  her  description  of  the 
place  where  it  lies  ?  Between  these  two 
hypotheses,  that  refer  directly  to  the  extent 
and  working  of  the  bee's  intellect,  there  is 
obviously  an  enormous  difference.  The 
English  savant  has  succeeded,  by  means 
of  an  elaborate  and  ingenious  arrangement 
of  gangways,  corridors,  moats  full  of 
water,  and  flying  bridges,  in  establishing 
that  the  ants  in  such  cases  do  no  more 
than  follow  in  the  track  of  the  pioneering 
168 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

insect.  With  ants,  that  can  be  made  to 
pass  where  one  will,  such  experiments  are 
possible;  but  for  the  bee,  whose  wings 
throw  every  avenue  open,  some  other  ex- 
pedient must  of  necessity  be  contrived. 
I  imagined  the  following,  which,  though 
it  gave  no  definite  result,  might  yet, 
under  more  favourable  conditions,  and  if 
organised  more  carefully,  give  rise  to  defi- 
nite and  satisfactory  conclusions. 

My  study  in  the  country  is  on  the  first 
floor,  above  a  somewhat  lofty  room ;  suf- 
ficiently high,  therefore,  to  be  out  of  the 
ordinary  range  of  the  bees'  flight,  except 
at  times  when  the  chestnuts  and  lime 
trees  are  in  bloom.  And  for  more  than 
a  week  before  I  started  this  experiment 
I  had  kept  on  my  table  an  open  comb  of 
honey,  without  the  perfume  having  at- 
tracted, or  induced  the  visit  of,  a  single 
bee.  Then  I  went  to  a  glass  hive  that 
was  close  to  the  house,  took  an  Italiai? 
169 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

bee,  brought  her  to  my  study,  set  her  on 
the  comb,  and  marked  her  while  she  was 
feeding. 

When  satisfied,  she  flew  away  and  re- 
turned to  the  hive.  I  followed,  saw  her 
pass  over  the  surface  of  the  crowd,  plunge 
her  head  into  an  empty  cell,  disgorge  her 
honey,  and  prepare  to  set  forth  again.  At 
the  door  of  the  hive  I  had  placed  a  glass 
box,  divided  by  a  trap  into  two  compart- 
ments. The  bee  flew  into  this  box;  and 
as  she  was  alone,  and  no  other  bee  seemed 
to  accompany  or  follow  her,  I  imprisoned 
her  and  left  her  there.  I  then  repeated 
the  experiment  on  twenty  different  bees 
in  succession.  When  the  marked  bee 
reappeared  alone,  I  imprisoned  her  as  I 
had  imprisoned  the  first.  But  eight  of 
them  came  to  the  threshold  of  the  hive 
and  entered  the  box  accompanied  by  two 
or  three  friends.  By  means  of  the  trap 
I  was  able  to  separate  the  marked  bee 
170 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

from  her  companions,  and  to  keep  her 
a  prisoner  in  the  first  compartment.  Then, 
having  marked  her  companions  with  a 
different  colour,  I  threw  open  the  second 
compartment  and  set  them  at  liberty, 
myself  returning  quickly  to  my  study 
to  await  their  arrival.  Now  it  is  evi- 
dent that  if  a  verbal  or  magnetic  commu- 
nication had  passed,  indicating  the  place, 
describing  the  way,  etc.,  a  certain  num- 
ber of  the  bees,  having  been  furnished 
with  this  information,  should  have  found 
their  way  to  my  room.  I  am  compelled 
to  admit  that  there  came  but  a  single  one. 
Was  this  mere  chance,  or  had  she  followed 
instructions  received  ?  The  experiment 
was  insufficient,  but  circumstances  pre- 
vented me  from  carrying  it  further.  I 
released  the  "  baited  "  bees,  and  my  study 
soon  was  besieged  by  the  buzzing  crowd 
to  whom  they  had  taught  the  way  to  the 
treasure. 

171 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

We  need  not  concern  ourselves  with 
this  incomplete  attempt  of  mine,  for  many 
other  curious  traits  compel  us  to  recognise 
the  existence  among  the  bees  of  spiritual 
communications  that  go  beyond  a  mere 
u  yes  "  or  "  no,"  and  that  are  manifest  in 
cases  where  mere  example  or  gesture 
would  not  be  sufficient.  Of  such,  for 
instance,  are  the  remarkable  harmony  of 
their  work  in  the  hive,  the  extraordinary 
division  of  labour,  the  regularity  with 
which  one  worker  will  take  the  place  of 
another,  etc,  I  have  often  marked  bees 
that  went  foraging  in  the  morning,  and 
found  that,  in  the  afternoon,  unless  flowers 
were  specially  abundant,  they  would  be 
engaged  in  heating  and  fanning  the  brood- 
cells,  or  perhaps  would  form  part  of  the 
mysterious,  motionless  curtain  in  whose 
midst  the  wax-makers  and  sculptors  would 
be  at  work.  Similarly  I  have  noticed 
that  workers  whom  I  have  seen  gather^ 
172 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ing  pollen  for  the  whole  of  one  day,  will 
bring  no  pollen  back  on  the  morrow, 
but  will  concern  themselves  exclusively 
with  the  search  for  nectar,  and  vice- 
versa. 

[48] 

And  further,  we  might  mention  what 
M.  Georges  de  Layens,  the  celebrated 
French  apiarist,  terms  the  "  Distribution 
of  Bees  over  Melliferous  Plants."  Day 
after  day,  at  the  first  hour  of  sunrise,  the 
explorers  of  the  dawn  return,  and  the  hive 
awakes  to  receive  the  good  news  of  the 
earth.  "  The  lime  trees  are  blossoming 
to-day  on  the  banks  of  the  canal."  "  The 
grass  by  the  roadside  is  gay  with  white 
clover."  "  The  sage  and  the  lotus  are 
about  to  open."  "The  mignonette,  the 
lilies  are  overflowing  with  pollen."  Where- 
upon the  bees  must  organise  quickly,  and 
arrange  to  divide  the  work.  Five  thou- 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

sand  of  the  sturdiest  will  sally  forth  to  the 
lime  trees,  while  three  thousand  juniors  go 
and  refresh  the  white  clover.  Those  who 
yesterday  were  absorbing  nectar  from  the 
corollas  will  to-day  repose  their  tongue 
and  the  glands  of  their  sac,  and  gather  red 
pollen  from  the  mignonette,  or  yellow 
pollen  from  the  tall  lilies ;  for  never  shall 
you  see  a  bee  collecting  or  mixing  pollen 
of  a  different  colour  or  species  ;  and  indeed 
one  of  the  chief  pre-occupations  of  the 
hive  is  the  methodical  bestowal  of  these 
pollens  in  the  store-rooms,  in  strict  accord- 
ance with  their  origin  and  colour.  Thus 
does  the  hidden  genius  issue  its  commands. 
The  workers  immediately  sally  forth,  in 
long  black  files,  whereof  each  one  will 
fly  straight  to  its  allotted  task.  "The 
bees,"  says  De  Layens,  "would  seem 
to  be  perfectly  informed  as  to  the  lo- 
cality, the  relative  melliferous  value, 
and  the  distance  of  every  melliferous 
'74 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

plant  within    a   certain    radius    from    the 
hive. 

"  If  we  carefully  note  the  different  direc- 
tions in  which  these  foragers  fly,  and 
observe  in  detail  the  harvest  they  gather 
from  the  various  plants  around,  we  shall 
find  that  the  workers  distribute  themselves 
over  the  flowers  in  proportion  not  only  to 
the  numbers  of  flowers  of  one  species,  but 
also  to  their  melliferous  value.  Nay, 
more  —  they  make  daily  calculations  as  to 
the  means  of  obtaining  the  greatest  possi- 
ble wealth  of  saccharine  liquid.  In  the 
spring,  for  instance,  after  the  willows  have 
bloomed,  when  the  fields  still  are  bare, 
and  the  first  flowers  of  the  woods  are  the 
one  resource  of  the  bees,  we  shall  see 
them  eagerly  visiting  gorse  and  violets, 
lungworts  and  anemones.  But,  a  few  days 
later,  when  fields  of  cabbage  and  colza 
begin  to  flower  in  sufficient  abundance,  we 
shall  find  that  the  bees  will  almost  entirety 
'75 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

forsake  the  plants  in  the  woods,  though 
these  be  still  in  full  blossom,  and  will  con- 
fine their  visits  to  the  flowers  of  cabbage 
and  colza  alone.  In  this  fashion  they 
regulate,  day  by  day,  their  distribution 
over  the  plants,  so  as  to  collect  the  great- 
est value  of  saccharine  liquid  in  the  least 
possible  time. 

"  It  may  fairly  be  claimed,  therefore,  for 
the  colony  of  bees  that,  in  its  harvesting 
labours  no  less  than  in  its  internal  economy, 
it  is  able  to  establish  a  rational  distribution 
of  the  number  of  workers  without  ever 
disturbing  the  principle  of  the  division  of 
labour." 

[49] 

But  what  have  we  to  do,  some  will  ask, 
with  the  intelligence  of  the  bees  ?  What 
concern  is  it  of  ours  whether  this  be  a  little 
less  or  a  little  more?  Why  weigh,  with 
such  infinite  care,  a  minute  fragment  of 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

almost  invisible  matter,  as  though  it  were 
a  fluid  whereon  depended  the  destiny  of 
man?  I  hold,  and  exaggerate  nothing, 
that  our  interest  herein  is  of  the  most  con- 
siderable. The  discovery  of  a  sign  of 
true  intellect  outside  ourselves  procures 
us  something  of  the  emotion  Robinson 
Crusoe  felt  when  he  saw  the  imprint  of 
a  human  foot  on  the  sandy  beach  of  his 
island.  We  seem  less  solitary  than  we 
had  believed.  And  indeed,  in  our  en- 
deavour to  understand  the  intellect  of 
the  bees,  we  are  studying  in  them  that 
which  is  most  precious  in  our  own  sub- 
stance :  an  atom  of  the  extraordinary 
matter  which  possesses,  wherever  it  at- 
tach itself,  the  magnificent  power  of 
transfiguring  blind  necessity,  of  organ- 
ising, embellishing,  and  multiplying  life «, 
and,  most  striking  of  all,  of  holding  in 
suspense  the  obstinate  force  of  death, 
and  the  mighty,  irresponsible  wave  that 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

wraps  almost  all  that  exists  in  an  eternal 
unconsciousness. 

Were  we  sole  possessors  of  the  particle 
of  matter  that,  when  maintained  in  a 
special  condition  of  flower  or  incandes- 
cence, we  term  the  intellect,  we  should  to 
some  extent  be  entitled  to  look  on  our- 
selves as  privileged  beings,  and  to  imagine 
that  in  us  nature  achieved  some  kind  of 
aim  ;  but  here  we  discover,  in  the  hymen- 
optera,  an  entire  category  of  beings  in 
whom  a  more  or  less  identical  aim  is 
achieved.  And  this  fact,  though  it  decide 
nothing  perhaps,  still  holds  an  honour- 
able place  in  the  mass  of  tiny  facts  that 
help  to  throw  light  on  our  position  in 
this  world.  It  affords  even,  if  considered 
from  a  certain  point  of  view,  a  fresh  proof 
of  the  most  enigmatic  part  of  our  being  ; 
for  the  superpositions  of  destinies  that  we 
find  in  the  hive  are  surveyed  by  us  frou, 
an  eminence  loftier  than  any  we  can  attain 
178 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

for  the  contemplation  of  the  destinies 
of  man."  There  we  see  before  us,  in 
miniature,  the  large  and  simple  lines  that 
in  our  own  disproportionate  sphere  we 
never  have  the  occasion  to  disentangle 
and  follow  to  the  end.  Spirit  and  matter 
are  there,  the  race  and  the  individual,  evo- 
lution and  permanence,  life  and  death,  the 
past  and  the  future;  all  gathered  together 
in  a  retreat  that  our  hand  can  lift  and  one 
look  of  our  eye  embrace.  And  may  we 
not  reasonably  ask  ourselves  whether  the 
mere  size  of  a  body,  and  the  room  that  it 
fills  in  time  and  space,  can  modify  to  the 
extent  we  imagine  the  secret  idea  of  na- 
ture ;  the  idea  that  we  try  to  discover  in 
the  little  history  of  the  hive,  which  in  a 
few  days  already  is  ancient,  no  less  than 
in  the  great  history  of  man,  of  whom  three 
generations  overlap  a  long  century  ? 


179 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 


Let  us  go  on,  then,  with  the  story  of 
our  hive  ;  let  us  take  it  up  where  we  left 
it  ;  and  raise,  as  high  as  we  may,  a  fold  of 
the  festooned  curtain  in  whose  midst  a 
strange  sweat,  white  as  snow  and  airier 
than  the  down  of  a  wing,  is  beginning  to 
break  over  the  swarm.  For  the  wax  thai 
is  now  being  born  is  not  like  the  wax  that 
we  know  ;  it  is  immaculate,  it  has  no 
weight;  seeming  truly  to  be  the  soul  of 
the  honey,  that  itself  is  the  spirit  of  flowers. 
And  this  motionless  incantation  has  called 
it  forth  that  it  may  serve  us,  later  —  in 
memory  of  its  origin,  doubtless,  wherein 
it  is  one  with  the  azure  sky,  and  heavy 
with  perfumes  of  magnificence  and  purity 
—  as  the  fragrant  light  of  the  last  of 
our  altars. 


-.80 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[so  ; 

To  follow  the  various  phases  of  the 
secretion  and  employment  of  wax  by  a 
swarm  that  is  beginning  to  build,  is  a 
matter  of  very  great  difficulty.  All  comes 
to  pass  in  the  blackest  depths  of  the 
crowd,  whose  agglomeration,  growing 
denser  and  denser,  produces  the  tem- 
perature needful  for  this  exudation,  which 
is  the  privilege  of  the  youngest  bees. 
Huber,  who  was  the  first  to  study  these 
phenomena,  bringing  incredible  patience 
to  bear  and  exposing  himself  at  times  to 
very  serious  danger,  devotes  to  them 
more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  pages ; 
which,  though  of  considerable  interest, 
are  necessarily  somewhat  confused.  But 
I  am  not  treating  this  subject  technically ; 
and  while  referring  when  necessary  to 
Huber's  admirable  studies,  I  shall  con- 
fine myself  generally  to  relating  what  is 

x8i 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

patent  to  any  one  who  may  gather  a 
swarm  into  a  glass  hive. 

We  have  to  admit,  first  of  all,  that  we 
know  not  yet  by  what  process  of  alchemy 
the  honey  transforms  itself  into  wax  in 
the  enigmatic  bodies  of  our  suspended 
bees.  We  can  only  say  that  they  will 
remain  thus  suspended  for  a  period  ex- 
tending from  eighteen  to  twenty-four 
hours,  in  a  temperature  so  high  that  one 
might  almost  believe  that  a  fire  was  burn- 
ing in  the  hollow  of  the  hive ;  and  then 
white  and  transparent  scales  will  appear 
at  the  opening  of  four  little  pockets  that 
every  bee  has  underneath  its  abdomen. 

When  the  bodies  of  most  of  those 
who  form  the  inverted  cone  have  thus 
been  adorned  with  ivory  tablets,  we  shall 
see  one  of  the  bees,  as  though  suddenly 
inspired,  abruptly  detach  herself  from  the 
mass,  and  climb  over  the  backs  of  the 

passive   crowd    till    she    reach    the  inner 

182 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

pinnacle  of  the  cupola.  To  this  she  will 
fix  herself  solidly,  dislodging,  with  re- 
peated blows  of  her  head,  such  of  her 
neighbours  as  may  seem  to  hamper  her 
movements.  Then,  with  her  mouth  and 
claws,  she  will  seize  one  of  the  eight 
scales  that  hang  from  her  abdomen,  and 
at  once  proceed  to  clip  it  and  plane  it, 
extend  it,  knead  it  with  her  saliva, 
bend  it  and  flatten  it,  roll  it  and  straighten 
it,  with  the  skill  of  a  carpenter  handling 
a  pliable  panel.  When  at  last  the  sub- 
stance, thus  treated,  appears  to  her  to 
possess  the  required  dimensions  and  con- 
sistency, she  will  attach  it  to  the  highest 
point  of  the  dome,  thus  laying  the  first, 
or  rather  the  keystone  of  the  new  town ; 
for  we  have  here  an  inverted  city,  hang- 
ing down  from  the  sky,  and  not  rising 
from  the  bosom  of  earth  like  a  city  of 
men. 

To   this    keystone,  depending   in   the 
183 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

void,  she  will  add  other  fragments  of  wax 
that  she  takes  in  succession  from  beneath 
her  rings  of  horn;  and  finally,  with  one 
last  lick  of  the  tongue,  one  last  wave  of 
antennae,  she  will  go  as  suddenly  as  she 
came,  and  disappear  in  the  crowd.  An- 
other will  at  once  take  her  place,  continue 
the  work  at  the  point  where  the  first  one 
has  left  it,  add  on  her  own,  change  and 
adjust  whatever  may  seem  to  offend  the 
ideal  plan  of  the  tribe,  then  vanish  in  her 
turn,  to  be  succeeded  by  a  third,  a  fourth, 
and  a  fifth,  all  appearing  unexpectedly, 
suddenly,  one  after  the  other,  none  com- 
pleting the  work,  but  each  bringing  hex 
share  to  the  task  in  which  all  combine. 


A  small  block  of  wax,  formless  as  yet, 

hangs  down  from    the  top  of  the  vault. 

So  soon  as  its  thickness  may  be  deemed 

sufficient,  we  shall  see  another  bee  emerge 

184 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

from  the  mass,  her  physical  appearance 
differing  appreciably  from  that  of  the 
foundresses  who  preceded  her.  And  her 
manner  displays  such  settled  conviction, 
her  movements  are  followed  so  eagerly  by 
all  the  crowd,  that  we  almost  might  fancy 
that  some  illustrious  engineer  had  been 
summoned  to  trace  in  the  void  the  site  of 
the  first  cell  of  all,  from  which  every  other 
must  mathematically  depend.  This  bee 
belongs  to  the  sculptor  or  carver  class 
of  workers ;  she  produces  no  wax  her- 
self and  is  content  to  deal  with  the 
materials  others  provide.  She  locates  the 
first  cell,  scoops  into  the  block  for  an  in- 
stant, lays  the  wax  she  has  removed  from 
the  cavity  on  the  borders  around  it ;  and 
then,  like  the  foundresses,  abruptly  de- 
parts and  abandons  her  model.  Her 
place  is  taken  at  once  by  an  impatient 
worker,  who  continues  the  task  that  a 
third  will  finish*  while  others  close  by  are 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

attacking  the  rest  of  the  surface  and  the 
opposite  side  of  the  wall ;  each  one  obey- 
ing the  general  law  of  interrupted  and 
successive  labour,  as  though  it  were  an 
inherent  principle  of  the  hive  that  the 
pride  of  toil  should  be  distributed,  and 
every  achievement  be  anonymous  and 
common  to  all,  that  it  might  thereby 
become  more  fraternal. 

[53] 

The  outline  of  the  nascent  comb  may 
soon  be  divined  In  form  it  will  still  be 
lenticular,  for  the  little  prismatic  tubes 
that  compose  it  are  unequal  in  length,  and 
diminish  in  proportion  as  they  recede  from 
the  centre  to  the  extremities.  In  thick- 
ness and  appearance  at  present  it  more  or 
less  resembles  a  human  tongue  whose 
sides  might  be  formed  of  hexagonal  cells, 
contiguous,  and  placed  back  to  back. 

The  first  cells  having  been  built,  the 
186 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

foundresses  proceed  to  add  a  second  block 
of  wax  to  the  roof;  and  so  in  gradation  a 
third  and  a  fourth.  These  blocks  follow 
each  other  at  regular  intervals  so  nicely 
calculated  that  when,  at  a  much  later 
period,  the  comb  shall  be  fully  developed, 
there  will  be  ample  space  for  the  bees  to 
move  between  its  parallel  walls. 

Their  plan  must  therefore  embrace  the 
final  thickness  of  every  comb,  which  will 
be  from  eighty-eight  to  ninety-two  hun- 
dredths  of  an  inch,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  width  of  the  avenues  between,  which 
must  be  about  half  an  inch,  or  in  other 
words  twice  the  height  of  a  bee,  since 
there  must  be  room  to  pass  back  to  back 
between  the  combs. 

The  bees,  however,  are  not  infallible, 
nor  does  their  certainty  appear  mechanical. 
They  will  commit  grave  errors  at  times, 
when  circumstances  present  unusual  diffi- 
culty. They  will  often  leave  too  much 
187 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

space,  or  too  little,  between  the  combs. 
This  they  will  remedy  as  best  they  can, 
either  by  giving  an  oblique  twist  to  the 
comb  that  too  nearly  approaches  the  other, 
or  by  introducing  an  irregular  comb  into 
the  gap.  "The  bees  sometimes  make 
mistakes,"  Reaumur  remarks  on  this  sub- 
ject, "  and  herein  we  may  find  yet  another 
fact  which  appears  to  prove  that  they 
reason." 

[54]  it'ji* 

-^  We  know  that  the  bees  construct  four 
kinds  of  cells.  First  of  all,  the  royal 
cells,  which  are  exceptional,  and  contrived 
somewhat  in  the  shape  of  an  acorn ;  then 
the  large  cells  destined  for  the  rearing 
of  males  and  storing  of  provisions  when 
flowers  super-abound  •,  and  the  small  cells, 
serving  as  workers'  cradles  and  ordinary 
store-rooms,  which  occupy  normally  about 
four-fifths  of  the  built-over  surface  of  the 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

hive.  And  lastly,  so  as  to  connect  in 
orderly  fashion  the  larger  cells  with  the 
small,  the  bees  will  erect  a  certain  number 
of  what  are  known  as  transition  cells. 
These  must  of  necessity  be  irregular  in 
form  ;  but  so  unerringly  accurate  are  the 
dimensions  of  the  second  and  third  types 
that,  at  the  time  when  the  decimal  system 
was  established,  and  a  fixed  measure  sought 
in  nature  to  serve  as  a  starting-point  and 
an  incontestable  standard ,  it  was  proposed 
by  Reaumur  to  select  for  this  purpose  the 
cell  of  the  bee.1 

Each  of  the  cells  is  an  hexagonal  tube 

1  It  was  as  well,  perhaps,  that  this  standard  was  not 
adopted.  For  although  the  diameter  of  the  cells  is 
admirably  regular,  it  is,  like  all  things  produced  by  a 
living  organism,  not  mathematically  invariable  in  the 
same  hive.  Further,  as  M.  Maurice  Girard  has 
pointed  out,  the  apothem  of  the  cell  varies  among 
different  races  of  bees,  so  that  the  standard  would  alter 
from  hive  to  hive,  according  to  the  species  of  bee  that 
inhabited  it. 

180 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

placed  on  a  pyramidal  base;  and  two 
layers  of  these  tubes  form  the  comb,  their 
bases  being  opposed  to  each  other  in  such 
fashion  that  each  of  the  three  rhombs  or 
lozenges  which  on  one  side  constitute  the 
pyramidal  base  of  one  cell,  composes  at 
the  same  time  the  pyramidal  base  of  three 
cells  on  the  other.  It  is  in  these  pris- 
matic tubes  that  the  honey  is  stored ;  and 
to  prevent  its  escaping  during  the  period 
of  maturation,  —  which  would  infallibly 
happen  if  the  tubes  were  as  strictly  hori- 
zontal as  they  appear  to  be,  —  the  bees 
incline  them  slightly,  to  an  angle  of 

4°  or  5°- 

"  Besides  the  economy  of  wax,"  says 
Reaumur,  when  considering  this  marvellous 
construction  in  its  entirety,  "  besides  the 
economy  of  wax  that  results  from  the  dis- 
position of  the  cells,  and  the  fact  that  this 
arrangement  allows  the  bees  to  fill  the 
comb  without  leaving  a  single  spot  vacant, 
190 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

there  are  other  advantages  also  with  respect 
to  the  solidity  of  the  work.  The  angle 
at  the  base  of  each  cell,  the  apex  of 
the  pyramidal  cavity,  is  buttressed  by 
the  ridge  formed  by  two  faces  of  the 
hexagon  of  another  cell.  The  two  tri- 
angles, or  extensions  of  the  hexagon  faces 
which  fill  one  of  the  convergent  angles  of 
the  cavity  enclosed  by  the  three  rhombs, 
form  by  their  junction  a  plane  angle  on 
the  side  they  touch  ;  each  of  these  angles, 
concave  within  the  cell,  supports,  on  its 
convex  side,  one  of  the  sheets  employed 
to  form  the  hexagon  of  another  cell ;  the 
sheet,  pressing  on  this  angle,  resists  the 
force  which  is  tending  to  push  it  out- 
wards ;  and  in  this  fashion  the  angles  are 
strengthened.  Every  advantage  that  could 
be  desired  with  regard  to  the  solidity  of 
each  cell  is  procured  by  its  own  formation 
and  its  position  with  reference  to  the 
others." 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[55] 

"  There  are  only,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  three 
possible  figures  of  the  cells  which  can 
make  them  all  equal  and  similar,  without 
any  useless  interstices.  These  are  the 
equilateral  triangle,  the  square,  and  the 
regular  hexagon.  Mathematicians  know 
that  there  is  not  a  fourth  way  possible  in 
which  a  plane  shall  be  cut  into  little  spaces 
that  shall  be  equal,  similar,  and  regular, 
without  useless  spaces.  Of  the  three 
figures,  the  hexagon  is  the  most  proper 
for  convenience  and  strength.  Bees,  as 
if  they  knew  this,  make  their  cells  regular 
hexagons. 

"  Again,  it  has  been  demonstrated  that, 
by  making  the  bottoms  of  the  cells  to 
consist  of  three  planes  meeting  in  a  point, 
there  is  a  saving  of  material  and  labour  in 
no  way  inconsiderable.  The  bees,  as  if 
acquainted  with  these  principles  of  solid 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

geometry,  follow  them  most  accurately, 
It  is  a  curious  mathematical  problem  at 
what  precise  angle  the  three  planes  which 
compose  the  bottom  of  a  cell  ought  to 
meet,  in  order  to  make  the  greatest  pos- 
sible saving,  or  the  least  expense  of  mate- 
rial and  labour.1  This  is  one  of  tht 

1  Reaumur  suggested  the  following  problem  to  th«, 
celebrated  mathematician  Koenig  :  "  Of  all  possible 
hexagonal  cells  with  pyramidal  base  composed  of  three 
equal  and  similar  rhombs,  to  find  the  one  whose  con- 
struction would  need  the  least  material."  Koenig't 
answer  was,  the  cell  that  had  for  its  base  three  rhombs 
whose  large  angle  was  109°  26",  and  the  small  70° 
34".  Another  savant,  Maraldi,  had  measured  as 
exactly  as  possible  the  angles  of  the  rhombs  constructed 
by  the  bees,  and  discovered  the  larger  to  be  109°  28", 
and  the  other  70°  32".  Between  the  two  solutions 
there  was  a  difference,  therefore,  of  only  2".  It  is 
probable  that  the  error,  if  error  there  be,  should  be 
attributed  to  Maraldi  rather  than  to  the  bees ;  for  it  is 
impossible  for  any  instrument  to  measure  the  angles  of 
the  cells,  which  are  not  very  clearly  defined,  with 
infallible  precision. 

The  problem  suggested  to  Koenig  was  put  to 
"  193 


Th«  Life  of  the  Bee 

problems  which  belong  to  the  higher  parts 
of  mathematics.  It  has  accordingly  been 
resolved  by  some  mathematicians,  par- 
ticularly by  the  ingenious  Maclaurin,  by 
a  fluctiqnary  calculation  which  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal 
Society  of  London.  He  has  determined 
precisely  the  angle  required,  and  he  found, 
by  the  most  exact  mensuration  the  subject 
would  admit,  that  it  is  the  very  angle  in 
which  the  three  planes  at  the  bottom  of 
the  cell  of  a  honey  comb  do  actually 
meet." 

[56] 

I  myself  do  not  believe  that  the  bees 
indulge  in  these  abstruse  calculations ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  seems  equally 
impossible  to  me  that  such  astounding  re- 

another  mathematician,  Cramer,  whose  solution  came 
even  closer  to  that  of  the  bees,  viz.,  109°  28^"  for 
the  large  angle,  and  70°  3i>£"  for  the  small 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

suits  can  be  due  to  chance  alone,  or  to  the 
mere  force  of  circumstance.  The  wasps, 
for  instance,  also  build  combs  with  hex- 
agonal cells,  so  that  for  them  the  problem 
was  identical,  and  they  have  solved  it  in  a 
far  less  ingenious  fashion.  Their  combs 
have  only  one  layer  of  cells,  thus  lacking 
the  common  base  that  serves  the  bees  for 
their  two  opposite  layers.  The  wasps' 
comb,  therefore,  is  not  only  less  regular, 
but  also  less  substantial ;  and  so  waste- 
fully  constructed  that,  besides  loss  of  ma- 
terial, they  must  sacrifice  about  a  third  of 
the  available  space  and  a  quarter  of  the 
energy  they  put  forth.  Again,  we  find  that 
the  trigonae  and  meliponae,  which  are  veri- 
table and  domesticated  bees,  though  of  les? 
advanced  civilisation,  erect  only  one  row 
of  rearing-cells,  and  support  their  horizon- 
tal, superposed  combs  on  shapeless  anfl 
costly  columns  of  wax.  Their  provision  • 
cells  are  merely  great  pots,  gathered  to 
*95 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

gather  without  any  order ;  and,  at  the 
point  between  the  spheres  where  these 
might  have  intersected  and  induced  a 
profitable  economy  of  space  and  material, 
the  meliponae  clumsily  insert  a  section  of 
cells  with  flat  walls.  Indeed,  to  compare 
one  of  their  nests  with  the  mathematical 
cities  of  our  own  honey-flies,  is  like 
imagining  a  hamlet  composed  of  primitive 
huts  side  by  side  with  a  modern  town  ; 
whose  ruthless  regularity  is  the  logical, 
though  perhaps  somewhat  charmless,  re- 
sult of  the  genius  of  man,  that  to-day, 
more  fiercely  than  ever  before,  seeks  to 
conquer  space,  matter,  and  time. 

[57]    ,,     ;;: 

There  is  a  theory,  originally  pro- 
pounded by  BuflFon  and  now  revived, 
which  assumes  that  the  bees  have  not  the 
least  intention  of  constructing  hexagons 
with  a  pyramidal  base,  but  that  theif 
196 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

desire  is  merely  to  contrive  round  cells 
in  the  wax ;  only,  that  as  their  neighbours, 
and  those  at  work  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  comb,  are  digging  at  the  same  mo- 
ment and  with  the  same  intentions,  the 
points  where  the  cells  meet  must  of  neces- 
sity become  hexagonal.  Besides,  it  is 
said,  this  is  precisely  what  happens  to 
crystals,  the  scales  of  certain  kinds  of  fish, 
soap-bubbles,  etc.,  as  it  happens  in  the 
following  experiment  that  Buffo n  sug- 
gested. "  If,'*  he  said,  "  you  fill  a  dish 
with  peas  or  any  other  cylindrical  bean, 
pour  as  much  water  into  it  as  the  space 
between  the  beans  will  allow,  close  it  care- 
fully and  then  boil  the  water,  you  will 
find  that  all  these  cylinders  have  become 
six-sided  columns.  And  the  reason  is 
evident,  being  indeed  purely  mechanical ; 
each  of  the  cylindrical  beans  tends,  as  it 
swells,  to  occupy  the  utmost  possible 
apace  within  a  given  space ;  wherefore  it 

197 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

follows  that  the  reciprocal  compression 
compels  them  all  to  become  hexagonal. 
Similarly  each  bee  seeks  to  occupy  the 
utmost  possible  space  within  a  given 
space,  with  the  necessary  result  that,  its 
body  being  cylindrical,  the  cells  become 
hexagonal  for  the  same  reason  as  before, 
viz.,  the  working  of  reciprocal  obstacles." 

[58] 

These  reciprocal  obstacles,  it  would 
«eem,  are  capable  of  marvellous  achieve- 
ment ;  on  the  same  principle,  doubtless, 
that  the  vices  of  man  produce  a  general 
virtue,  whereby  the  human  race,  hateful 
often  in  its  individuals,  ceases  to  be  so  in 
the  mass.  We  might  reply,  first  of  all, 
with  Brougham,  Kirby  and  Spence,  and 
others,  that  experiments  with  peas  and 
soap-bubbles  prove  nothing ;  for  the  rea- 
Bon  that  in  both  cases  the  pressure  pro- 
duces only  irregular  forms,  and  in  no 
198 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

wise  explains  the  existence  of  the  pris- 
matic base  of  the  cells.  But  above  9,11 
we  might  answer  that  there  are  more 
ways  than  one  of  dealing  with  rigid  neces- 
sity ;  that  the  wasp,  the  humble-bee,  the 
trigonae  and  meliponae  of  Mexico  and 
Brazil  achieve  very  different  and  mani- 
festly inferior  results,  although  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  their  own  intentions,  are 
absolutely  identical  with  those  of  the 
bees.  It  might  further  be  urged  that  if 
the  bee's  cell  does  indeed  follow  the  law 
that  governs  crystals,  snow,  soap-bubbles, 
as  well  as  Buffon's  boiled  peas,  it  also, 
through  its  general  symmetry,  disposition 
in  opposite  layers,  and  angle  of  inclina- 
tion, obeys  many  other  laws  that  are  not 
to  be  found  in  matter.  May  we  not  say, 
too,  of  man  that  all  his  genius  is  com- 
prised in  his  fashion  of  handling  kindred 
necessities  ?  And  if  it  appear  to  us  that 
his  manner  of  treating  these  is  the  best 
199 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

there  can  possibly  be,  the  reason  only 
can  lie  in  the  absence  of  a  judge  superior 
to  ourselves.  But  it  is  well  that  argu- 
ment should  make  way  for  fact ;  and 
indeed,  to  the  objection  based  on  an 
experiment,  the  best  reply  of  all  must 
be  a  counter-experiment. 

In  order  to  satisfy  myself  that  hexag- 
onal architecture  truly  was  written  in  the 
spirit  of  the  bee,  I  cut  off  and  removed 
one  day  a  disc  of  the  size  of  a  five- 
franc  piece  from  the  centre  of  a  comb, 
at  a  spot  where  there  were  both  brood- 
cells  and  cells  full  of  honey.  I  cut  into 
the  circumference  of  this  disc,  at  the 
intersecting  point  of  the  pyramidal  cells  ; 
inserted  a  piece  of  tin  on  the  base  of  one 
of  these  sections,  shaped  exactly  to  its 
dimensions,  and  possessed  of  resistance 
sufficient  to  prevent  the  bees  from  bend- 
ing or  twisting  it.  Then  I  replaced  the 
•lice  of  comb,  duty  furnished  with  its 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

slab  of  tin,  on  the  spot  whence  I  had 
removed  it ;  so  that,  while  one  side  of 
the  comb  presented  no  abnormal  feature, 
the  damage  having  been  repaired,  the 
other  displayed  a  sort  of  deep  cavity, 
covering  the  space  of  about  thirty  cells, 
with  the  piece  of  tin  as  its  base.  The 
bees  were  disconcerted  at  first;  they 
flocked  in  numbers  to  inspect  and  ex- 
amine this  curious  chasm ;  day  after  day 
they  wandered  agitatedly  to  and  fro,  ap- 
parently unable  to  form  a  decision.  But, 
as  I  fed  them  copiously  every  evening, 
there  came  a  moment  when  they  had  no 
more  cells  available  for  the  storage  of 
provisions.  Thereupon  they  probably 
summoned  their  great  engineers,  distin- 
guished sculptors,  and  wax-workers,  and 
invited  them  to  turn  this  useless  cavity 
to  profitable  account. 

The  wax-makers  having  gathered  around 
<md  formed  themselves  into  a  dense  fea» 

201 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

toon,  so  that  the  necessary  heat  might  be 
maintained,  other  bees  descended  into  the 
hole  and  proceeded  solidly  to  attach  the 
metal,  and  connect  it  with  the  walls  of  ad- 
jacent cells,  by  means  of  little  waxen  hooks 
which  they  distributed  regularly  over  its 
surface.  In  the  upper  semicircle  of  the 
disc  they  then  began  to  construct  three 
or  four  cells,  uniting  these  to  the  hooks. 
Each  of  these  transition,  or  accommo- 
dation, cells  was  more  or  less  deformed 
at  the  top,  to  allow  of  its  being  soldered 
to  the  adjoining  cell  on  the  comb ;  but 
its  lower  portion  already  designed  on  the 
tin  three  very  clear  angles,  whence  there 
ran  three  little  straight  lines  that  correctly 
indicated  the  first  half  of  the  following 
cell. 

After  forty-eight  hours,  and  notwith- 
standing the  fact  that  only  three  bees  at 
«  time  were  able  to  work  in  the  cavity, 
<he  entire  surface  of  the  tin  was  covered 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

with  outlined  cells.  These  were  less  reg- 
ular, certainly,  than  those  of  an  ordinary 
comb ;  wherefore  the  queen,  having  in- 
spected them,  wisely  declined  to  lay  any 
eggs  there,  for  the  generation  that  would 
have  arisen  therefrom  would  necessarily 
have  been  deformed.  Each  cell,  how- 
ever, was  a  perfect  hexagon;  nor  did  it 
contain  a  single  crooked  line,  a  single 
curved  figure  or  angle.  And  yet  the 
ordinary  conditions  had  all  been  changed ; 
the  cells  had  neither  been  scooped  out  of 
a  block,  according  to  Huber's  descrip- 
tion, nor  had  they  been  designed  within  a 
waxen  hood,  and,  from  being  circular  at 
first,  been  subsequently  converted  into 
hexagons  by  the  pressure  of  adjoining 
cells,  as  explained  by  Darwin.  Neither 
could  there  be  question  here  of  reciprocal 
obstacles,  the  cells  having  been  formed 
one  by  one,  and  their  first  lines  traced  on 
what  practically  was  a  bare  table.  It  would 
203 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

seem  incontestable,  therefore,  that  the  hex- 
agon is  not  merely  the  result  of  mechani- 
cal necessities,  but  that  it  has  its  true 
place  in  the  plans,  the  experience,  the 
intellect  and  will  of  the  bee.  I  may 
relate  here  another  curious  instance  of 
the  workers'  sagacity :  the  cells  they  built 
on  the  tin  had  no  other  base  than  the 
metal  itself.  The  engineers  of  the  corps 
had  evidently  decided  that  the  tin  could 
adequately  retain  the  honey;  and  had 
tonsidered  that,  the  substance  being  im- 
permeable, they  need  not  waste  the  mate- 
rial they  value  so  highly  by  covering  the 
metal  with  a  layer  of  wax.  But,  a  short 
time  after,  some  drops  of  honey  having 
been  placed  in  two  of  these  cells,  the  bees 
discovered,  in  tasting  it,  that  the  contact 
of  the  metal  had  a  deteriorating  effect. 
Thereupon  they  reconsidered  the  matter, 
and  covered  over  with  wax  the  entire  sur- 
face of  the  tin. 

204 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[59] 

Were  it  our  desire  to  throw  light  upon 
all  the  secrets  of  this  geometric  architect- 
ure, we  should  have  more  than  one  curi- 
ous question  still  to  consider ;  as  for 
instance  the  shape  of  the  first  cells, 
which,  being  attached  to  the  roof,  are 
modified  in  such  a  manner  as  to  touch 
the  roof  at  the  greatest  possible  number 
of  points. 

The  design  of  the  principal  thorough^ 
fares  is  determined  by  the  parallelism  of 
the  combs ;  but  we  must  admire  the  in- 
genious construction  of  alleys  and  gang- 
ways through  and  around  the  comb,  s<r 
skilfully  contrived  as  to  provide  short  cuts 
in  every  direction  and  prevent  conges- 
tion of  traffic,  while  ensuring  free  circula- 
tion of  air.  And  finally  we  should  have 
to  study  the  construction  of  transition 
cells,  wherein  we  see  a  unanimous  instinct 
205 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

at  work  that  impels  the  bees  at  a  given 
moment  to  increase  the  size  of  their 
dwellings.  Three  reasons  may  dictate 
this  step  :  an  extraordinary  harvest  may 
call  for  larger  receptacles,  the  workers 
may  consider  the  population  to  be  suffi- 
ciently numerous,  or  it  may  have  become 
necessary  that  males  should  be  born.  Nor 
can  we  in  such  cases  refrain  from  wonder- 
ing at  the  ingenious  economy,  the  unerr- 
ing, harmonious  conviction,  with  which  the 
bees  will  pass  from  the  small  to  the  large, 
from  the  large  to  the  small ;  from  perfect 
symmetry  to,  where  unavoidable,  its  very 
reverse,  returning  co  ideal  regularity  so 
soon  as  the  laws  of  a  live  geometry  will 
allow;  and  all  the  time  not  losing  a  cell, 
not  suffering  a  single  one  of  their  numer- 
ous structures  to  be  sacrificed,  to  be  ridic- 
ulous, uncertain,  or  barbarous,  or  any 
section  thereof  to  become  unfit  for  use. 
But  I  fear  that  I  have  already  wandered 
«o6 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

into  many  details  that  will  have  but  slen- 
der interest  for  the  reader,  whose  eyes 
perhaps  may  never  have  followed  a  flight 
of  bees ;  or  who  may  have  regarded  them 
only  with  the  passing  interest  with  which 
we  are  all  of  us  apt  to  regard  the  flower, 
the  bird  or  the  precious  stone,  asking  of 
these  no  more  than  a  slight  superficial 
assurance,  and  forgetting  that  the  most 
trivial  secret  of  the  non-human  object  we 
behold  in  nature  connects  more  closely 
perhaps  with  the  profound  enigma  of  our 
origin  and  our  end,  than  the  secret  of 
those  of  our  passions  that  we  study  the 
most  eagerly  and  the  most  passionately. 

[60] 

And  I  will  pass  over  too  —  in  my  de- 
sire that  this  essay  shall  not  become  t<yj 
didactic  —  the  remarkable  instinct  that  in- 
duces the  bees  at  times  to  thin  and  demol- 
ish the  extremity  of  their  combs,  when 
307 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

these  are  to  be  enlarged  or  lengthened^ 
though  it  must  be  admitted  that  in  this 
case  the  "  blind  building  instinct "  fails 
signally  to  account  for  their  demolishing 
in  order  that  they  may  rebuild,  or  undoing 
what  has  been  done  that  it  may  be  done 
afresh,  and  with  more  regularity.  I  will 
content  myself  also  with  a  mere  reference 
to  the  remarkable  experiment  that  enables 
us,  with  the  aid  of  a  piece  of  glass,  to 
compel  the  bees  to  start  their  combs  at  a 
right  angle  ;  when  they  most  ingeniously 
contrive  that  the  enlarged  cells  on  the 
convex  side  shall  coincide  with  the  reduced 
cells  on  the  concave  side  of  the  comb. 

But  before  finally  quitting  this  subject 
let  us  pause,  though  it  be  but  for  an  in- 
stant, and  consider  the  mysterious  fashion 
in  which  they  manage  to  act  in  concert 
and  combine  their  labour,  when  simul- 
taneously carving  two  opposite  sides  of  a 
comb,  and  unable  therefore  to  see  each 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

other.  Take  a  finished  comb  to  the  light 
fix  your  eyes  on  the  diaphanous  wax ;  you 
will  see,  most  clearly  designed,  an  entire 
network  of  sharply  cut  prisms,  a  whole 
system  of  concordances  so  infallible  that 
one  might  almost  believe  them  to  be 
stamped  on  steel. 

I  wonder  whether  those  who  never  have 
seen  the  interior  of  a  hive  can  form  an  ade- 
quate conception  of  the  arrangement  and 
aspect  of  the  combs.  Let  them  imagine — 
we  will  take  a  peasant's  hive,  where  the  bee 
is  left  entirely  to  its  own  resources  —  let 
them  imagine  a  dome  of  straw  or  osier, 
divided  from  top  to  bottom  by  five,  six, 
eight,  sometimes  ten,  strips  of  wax,  resemb- 
ling somewhat  great  slices  of  bread,  that  run 
in  strictly  parallel  lines  from  the  top  of 
the  dome  to  the  floor,  espousing  closely 
the  shape  of  the  ovoid  walls.  Between 
these  strips  is  contrived  a  space  of  about 
half  an  inch,  to  enable  the  bees  to  stand 
'*  209 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

and  to  pass  each  other.  At  the  moment 
when  they  begin  to  construct  one  of 
these  strips  at  the  top  of  the  hive,  the 
waxen  wall  (which  is  its  rough  model,  and 
will  later  be  thinned  and  extended)  is  still 
very  thick,  and  completely  excludes  the 
fifty  or  sixty  bees  at  work  on  its  inner 
face  from  the  fifty  or  sixty  simultaneously 
engaged  in  carving  the  outer,  so  that  it  is 
wholly  impossible  for  one  group  to  see  the 
other,  unless  indeed  their  sight  be  able  to 
penetrate  opaque  matter.  And  yet  there 
is  not  a  hole  that  is  scooped  on  the  inner 
surface,  not  a  fragment  of  wax  that  is 
added,  but  corresponds  with  mathematical 
precision  to  a  protuberance  or  cavity  on 
fhe  outer  surface,  and  vice  versa.  How 
does  this  happen?  How  is  it  that  one 
does  not  dig  too  deep,  another  not  deep 
enough  ?  Whence  the  invariable  magical 
coincidence  between  the  angles  of  the 
lozenges  ?  What  is  it  tells  the  bees  that 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

at  this  point  they  must  begin,  and  at  that 
point  stop?  Once  again  we  must  con- 
tent ourselves  with  the  reply,  that  is  no 
reply :  "  It  is  a  mystery  of  the  hive." 
Huber  has  sought  to  explain  this  mys- 
tery by  suggesting  that  the  pressure  of 
the  bees*  hooks  and  teeth  may  possibly 
produce  slight  projections,  at  regular  in- 
tervals, on  the  opposite  side  of  the  comb ; 
or  that  they  may  be  able  to  estimate  the 
thickness  of  the  block  by  the  flexibility, 
elasticity,  or  some  other  physical  quality  of 
the  wax ;  or  again,  that  their  antennae, 
which  seem  so  well  adapted  for  the  ques- 
tioning of  the  finer,  less  evident  side  of 
things,  may  serve  as  a  compass  in  the  in- 
visible; or,  lastly,  that  the  position  of 
every  cell  may  derive  mathematically  from 
the  arrangement  and  dimensions  of  the 
cells  on  the  first  row,  and  thus  dispense 
with  the  need  for  further  measurement. 
But  these  explanations  are  evidently  in- 

311 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

sufficient;  the  first  are  mere  hypotheses 
that  cannot  be  verified,  the  others  do  no 
more  than  transplant  the  mystery.  And 
useful  as  it  may  be  to  transplant  mystery 
as  often  as  we  possibly  can,  it  were  not 
wise  to  imagine  that  a  mystery  has 
ceased  to  be  because  we  have  shifted  its 
home. 

[61] 

Now  let  us  leave  these  dreary  building 
grounds,  this  geometrical  desert  of  cells. 
The  combs  have  been  started,  and  are 
becoming  habitable.  Though  it  be  here 
the  infinitely  little  that,  without  apparent 
hope,  adds  itself  to  the  infinitely  little ; 
though  our  eye  with  its  limited  vision 
look  and  see  nothing,  the  work  of  wax, 
halting  neither  by  day  nor  by  night,  will 
advance  with  incredible  quickness.  The 
impatient  queen  already  has  more  than 
once  paced  the  stockades  that  gleam  white 
Mi 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  the  darkness ;  and  no  sooner  is  the 
first  row  of  dwellings  complete  than  she 
takes  possession  with  her  escort  of  coun- 
sellors, guardians,  or  servants  —  for  we 
know  not  whether  she  lead  or  be  led,  be 
venerated  or  supervised.  When  the  spot 
has  been  reached  that  she,  or  her  urgent 
advisers,  may  regard  as  favourable,  she 
arches  her  back,  bends  forward,  and  intro- 
duces the  extremity  of  her  long  spindle- 
shaped  abdomen  into  one  of  the  cells ;  the 
little  eager  heads  of  her  escort  meanwhile 
forming  a  passionate  circle  around  her, 
watching  her  with  their  enormous  black 
eyes,  supporting  her,  caressing  her  wings, 
and  waving  their  feverish  antennae  as 
though  to  encourage,  incite,  or  congratulate. 
You  may  easily  discover  the  spot  where 
the  queen  shall  be  found  by  the  sort  of 
starry  cockade,  or  oval  brooch  perhaps 
of  the  imposing  kind  our  grandmothers 
used  to  wear,  of  which  she  forms  the 

21* 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

central  stone.  And  one  may  mention 
here  the  curious  fact  that  the  workers 
always  avoid  turning  their  back  on  the 
queen.  No  sooner  has  she  approached 
a  group  than  they  will  invariably  arrange 
themselves  so  as  to  face  her  with  eyes  and 
antennae,  and  to  walk  backwards  before 
hen  It  is  a  token  of  respect,  or  of 
solicitude,  that,  unlikely  as  it  may  seem, 
is  nevertheless  constant  and  general.  But 
to  return  to  the  queen.  During  the 
slight  spasm  that  visibly  accompanies  the 
emission  of  an  egg,  one  of  her  daughters 
will  often  throw  her  arms  round  her  and 
appear  to  be  whispering  to  her,  brow 
pressed  to  brow  and  mouth  to  mouth. 
But  the  queen,  in  no  wise  disturbed  by 
this  somewhat  bold  demonstration,  takes 
her  time,  tranquilly,  calmly,  wholly  ab- 
sorbed by  the  mission  that  would  seem 
amorous  delight  to  her  rather  than  labour. 
And  after  some  seconds  she  will  rise,  very 
214 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

quietly,  take  a  step  back,  execute  a  slight 
turn  on  herself,  and  proceed  to  the  next 
cell,  into  which  she  will  first,  before  intro- 
ducing her  abdomen,  dip  her  head  to  make 
sure  that  all  is  in  order  and  that  she  is 
not  laying  twice  in  the  same  cell ;  and  in 
the  meanwhile  two  or  three  of  her  escort 
will  have  plunged  into  the  cell  she  has 
quitted  to  see  whether  the  work  be  duly 
accomplished,  and  to  care  for,  and  ten- 
derly house,  the  little  bluish  egg  she  has 
laid. 

From  this  moment,  up  to  the  first  frosts 
of  autumn,  she  does  not  cease  laying ; 
she  lays  while  she  is  being  fed,  and  even 
in  her  sleep,  if  indeed  she  sleeps  at  all, 
she  still  lays.  She  represents  henceforth 
the  devouring  force  of  the  future,  which 
invades  every  corner  of  the  kingdom. 
Step  by  step  she  pursues  the  unfortunate 
workers  who  are  exhaustedly,  feverishly 
erecting  the  cradles  her  fecundity  de- 
215 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

mands.  We  have  here  the  union  of 
two  mighty  instincts;  and  their  workings 
throw  into  light,  though  they  leave  unre- 
solved, many  an  enigma  of  the  hive. 

It  will  happen,  for  instance,  that  the 
workers  will  distance  her,  and  acquire  a 
certain  start ;  whereupon,  mindful  of 
their  duties  as  careful  housewives  to  pro- 
vide for  the  bad  days  ahead,  they  hasten 
to  fill  with  honey  the  cells  they  have 
wrested  from  the  avidity  of  the  species. 
But  the  queen  approaches ;  material  wealth 
must  give  way  to  the  scheme  of  nature  ; 
and  the  distracted  workers  are  compelled 
with  all  speed  to  remove  the  importunate 
treasure. 

But  assume  them  to  be  a  whole  comb 
ahead,  and  to  have  no  longer  before  them 
her  who  stands  for  the  tyranny  of  days 
they  shall  none  of  them  see ;  we  find 
then  that  they  eagerly,  hurriedly,  build 
a  zone  of  large  cells,  cells  for  males ; 
216 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

whove  construction  is  very  much  easierv 
and  far  more  rapid.  When  the  queen 
in  her  turn  attains  this  unthankful  zone, 
she  will  regretfully  lay  a  few  eggs  there, 
then  cease,  pass  beyond,  and  clamour 
for  more  workers'  cells.  Her  daughters 
obey ;  little  by  little  they  reduce  the 
cells  ;  and  then  the  pursuit  starts  afresh, 
till  at  last  the  insatiable  mother  shall  have 
traversed  the  whole  circumference  of  the 
hive,  and  have  returned  to  the  first  cells. 
These,  by  this  time,  will  be  empty  ;  for 
the  first  generation  will  have  sprung  into 
life,  soon  to  go  forth,  from  their  shadowy 
corner  of  birth,  disperse  over  the  neigh- 
bouring blossoms,  people  the  rays  of  the 
sun  and  quicken  the  smiling  hours;  and 
then  sacrifice  themselves  in  their  turl 
to  the  new  generations  that  are  alreacff 
filling  their  place  in  the  cradles. 


217 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[62] 

And  whom  does  the  queen-bee  obey  ? 
She  is  ruled  by  nourishment  given  her ; 
for  she  does  not  take  her  own  food,  but 
is  fed  like  a  child  by  the  very  workers 
whom  her  fecundity  harasses.  And  the 
food  these  workers  deal  out  is  nicely  pro- 
portioned to  the  abundance  of  flowers,  to 
the  spoil  brought  back  by  those  who 
visit  the  calyces.  Here,  then,  as  every- 
where else  in  the  world,  one  part  of  the 
circle  is  wrapped  in  darkness ;  here,  as 
everywhere,  it  is  from  without,  from  an 
unknown  power,  that  the  supreme  order 
issues ;  and  the  bees,  like  ourselves,  obey 
the  nameless  lord  of  the  wheel  that  inces^ 
santly  turns  on  itself,  and  crushes  the 
wills  that  have  set  it  in  motion. 

Some  little  time  back,  I  conducted  a 
friend  to  one  of  my  hives  of  glass,  and 
showed  him  the  movements  of  this  wheel, 
218 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

which  was  as  readily  perceptible  as  the 
great  wheel  of  a  clock ;  showed  him,  in 
all  its  bareness,  the  universal  agitation 
on  every  comb,  the  perpetual,  frantic, 
bewildered  haste  of  the  nurses  around 
the  brood-cells ;  the  living  gangways  and 
ladders  formed  by  the  makers  of  wax,  the 
abounding,  unceasing  activity  of  the  entire 
population,  and  their  pitiless,  useless  ef- 
fort ;  the  ardent,  feverish  coming  and 
going  of  all,  the  general  absence  of  sleep 
save  in  the  cradles  alone,  around  which 
continuous  labour  kept  watch  ;  the  denial 
of  even  the  repose  of  death  in  a  home 
which  permits  no  illness  and  accords  no 
grave;  and  my  friend,  his  astonishment 
over,  soon  turned  his  eyes  away,  and  in 
them  I  could  read  the  signs  of  I  know 
not  what  saddened  fear. 

And  truly,  underlying  the  gladness  that 
we  note  first  of  all  in  the  hive,  underly- 
ing the  dazzling  memories    of  beautiful 
219 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

days  that  render  it  the  storehouse  of 
summer's  most  precious  jewels,  underly- 
ing the  blissful  journeys  that  knit  it  so 
close  to  the  flowers  and  to  running  water, 
to  the  sky,  to  the  peaceful  abundance  of 
all  that  makes  for  beauty  and  happiness 
—  underlying  all  these  exterior  joys,  there 
reposes  a  sadness  as  deep  as  the  eye  of 
man  can  behold.  And  we,  who  dimly 
gaze  on  these  things  with  our  own  blind 
eyes,  we  know  full  well  that  it  is  not  they 
alone  that  we  are  striving  to  see,  not 
they  alone  that  we  cannot  understand, 
but  that  before  us  there  lies  a  pitiable 
form  of  the  great  power  that  quickens 
us  also. 

Sad  let  it  be,  as  all  things  in  nature  are 
sad,  when  our  eyes  rest  too  closely  upon 
them.  And  thus  it  ever  shall  be  so  long 
as  we  know  not  her  secret,  know  not  even 
whether  secret  truly  there  be.  And  should 
we  discover  some  day  that  there  is  no  secret , 

22  Q 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

or  that  the  secret  is  monstrous,  other  duties 
will  then  arise  that,  as  yet,  perhaps,  have 
no  name.  Let  our  heart,  if  it  will,  in  the 
meanwhile  repeat,  "  It  is  sad  ;  "  but  let 
our  reason  be  content  to  add,  "  Thus  it  is." 
At  the  present  hour  the  duty  before  us  is 
to  seek  out  that  which  perhaps  may  be  hid- 
ing behind  these  sorrows  ;  and,  urged  on 
by  this  endeavour,  we  must  not  turn  our 
eyes  away,  but  steadily,  fixedly,  watch  these 
sorrows  and  study  them,  with  a  courage  and 
interest  as  keen  as  though  they  were  joys. 
It  is  right  that  before  we  judge  nature, 
before  we  complain,  we  should  at  least 
ask  every  question  that  we  can  possibly 
ask. 


We  have  seen  that  the  workers,  when 
free  for  the  moment  from  the  threatening 
fecundity  of  the  queen,  hasten  to  erect 
cells  for  provisions,  whose  construction  is 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

more  economical  and  capacity  greater. 
We  have  seen,  too,  that  the  queen  prefers 
to  lay  in  the  smaller  cells,  for  which  she  is 
incessantly  clamouring.  When  these  are 
wanting,  however,  or  till  they  be  provided, 
she  resigns  herself  to  laying  her  eggs  in 
the  large  cells  she  finds  on  her  road. 

These  eggs,  though  absolutely  identical 
with  those  from  which  workers  are 
hatched,  will  give  birth  to  males,  or 
drones.  Now,  conversely  to  what  takes 
place  when  a  worker  is  turned  into  queen, 
it  is  here  neither  the  form  nor  the  capac- 
ity of  the  cell  that  produces  this  change  ; 
for  from  an  egg  laid  in  a  large  cell  and 
afterwards  transferred  to  that  of  a  worker 
(a  most  difficult  operation,  because  of 
the  microscopic  minuteness  and  extreme 
fragility  of  the  egg,  but  one  that  I  have 
four  or  five  times  successfully  accom- 
plished) there  will  issue  an  undeniable 
male,  though  more  or  less  atrophied.  Jt 
222 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

follows,  therefore,  that  the  queen  must 
possess  the  power,  while  laying,  of  know- 
ing or  determining  the  sex  of  the  egg, 
and  of  adapting  it  to  the  cell  over  which 
she  is  bending.  She  will  rarely  make  a 
mistake.  How  does  she  contrive,  from 
among  the  myriad  eggs  her  ovaries  con- 
tain, to  separate  male  from  female,  and 
lower  them,  at  will,  into  the  unique 
oviduct  ? 

Here,  yet  again,  there  confronts  us  an 
enigma  of  the  hive  ;  and  in  this  case  one 
of  the  most  unfathomable.  We  know 
that  the  virgin  queen  is  not  sterile ;  but 
the  eggs  that  she  lays  will  produce  only 
males.  It  is  not  till  after  the  impregnation 
of  the  nuptial  flight  that  she  can  produce 
workers  or  drones  at  will.  The  nuptial 
flight  places  her  permanently  in  posses- 
sion, till  death,  of  the  spermatozoa  torn 
from  her  unfortunate  lover.  These  sper- 
matozoa, whose  number  Dr.  Leuckart 
223 


The  Lite  of  the  Bee 

estimates  at  twenty-five  millions,  are 
preserved  alive  in  a  special  gland  known 
as  the  spermatheca,  that  is  situate  undei 
the  ovaries,  at  the  entrance  to  the  common 
oviduct.  It  is  imagined  that  the  narrow 
aperture  of  the  smaller  cells,  and  the 
manner  in  which  the  form  of  this  aperture 
compels  the  queen  to  bend  forward,  ex- 
ercise a  certain  pressure  upon  the  sper- 
matheca, in  consequence  of  which  the 
spermatozoa  spring  forth  and  fecundate 
the  egg  as  it  passes.  In  the  large  cells 
this  pressure  would  not  take  place,  and 
the  spermatheca  would  therefore  not  open. 
Others,  again,  believe  that  the  queen  has 
perfect  control  over  the  muscles  that  open 
and  close  the  spermatheca  on  the  vagina ; 
and  these  muscles  are  certainly  very 
numerous,  complex,  and  powerful.  For 
myself,  I  incline  to  the  second  of  these 
hypotheses,  though  I  do  not  for  a  mo- 
ment pretend  to  decide  which  is  the  more 
224 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

correct;  for  indeed,  the  further  we  go 
and  the  more  closely  we  study,  the  more 
plainly  is  it  brought  home  to  us  that  we 
merely  are  waifs  shipwrecked  on  the 
ocean  of  nature ;  and  ever  and  anon, 
from  a  sudden  wave  that  shall  be  more 
transparent  than  others,  there  leaps  forth 
a  fact  that  in  an  instant  confounds  all  we 
imagined  we  knew.  But  the  reason  of 
my  preferring  the  second  theory  is  that, 
for  one  thing,  the  experiments  of  a  Bor- 
deaux bee-keeper,  M.  Drory,  have  shown 
that  in  cases  where  all  the  large  cells  have 
been  removed  from  the  hive,  the  mother 
will  not  hesitate,  when  the  moment  for 
laying  male  eggs  has  come,  to  deposit 
these  in  workers'  cells ;  and  that,  in- 
versely, she  will  lay  workers*  eggs  in  cells 
provided  for  males,  if  she  have  no  others 
at  her  disposal.  And,  further,  we  learn 
from  the  interesting  observations  of  M. 
Fabre  on  the  Osmiae,  which  are  wild  and 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

solitary  bees  of  the  Gastrilegidae  family, 
that  not  only  does  the  Osmia  know  in 
advance  the  sex  of  the  egg  she  will  lay, 
but  that  this  sex  is  "  optional  for  the 
mother,  who  decides  it  in  accordance  with 
the  space  of  which  she  disposes  ;  this  space 
being  often  governed  by  chance  and  not 
to  be  modified ;  and  she  will  deposit  a 
male  egg  here  and  a  female  there-"  I 
shall  not  enter  into  the  details  of  the 
great  French  entomologist's  experiments, 
for  they  are  exceedingly  minute,  and 
would  take  us  too  far.  But  whichever 
be  the  hypothesis  we  prefer  to  accept, 
either  will  serve  to  explain  the  queen's 
inclination  to  lay  her  eggs  in  workers' 
cells,  without  it  being  necessary  to  credit 
her  with  the  least  concern  for  the  future. 

It  is   not   impossible   that   this   slave- 
mother,  whom  we  are  inclined  to  pity,  may 
be  indeed  a  great  amorist,  a  great  volup- 
tuary, deriving   a  certain    enjoyment,  an 
226 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

after-taste,  as  it  were,  of  her  one  mar- 
riage-flight, from  the  union  of  the  male 
and  female  principle  that  thus  comes  to 
pass  in  her  being.  Here  again  nature, 
never  so  ingenious,  so  cunningly  pru- 
dent and  diverse,  as  when  contriving  her 
snares  of  love,  will  not  have  failed  to 
provide  a  certain  pleasure  as  a  bait  in 
the  interest  of  the  species.  And  yet  let 
us  pause  for  a  moment,  and  not  become 
the  dupes  of  our  own  explanation.  For 
indeed,  to  attribute  an  idea  of  this  kind  to 
nature,  and  regard  that  as  sufficient,  is 
like  flinging  a  stone  into  an  unfathomable 
gulf  we  may  find  in  the  depths  of  a  grotto, 
and  imagining  that  the  sounds  it  creates 
as  it  falls  shall  answer  our  every  question, 
or  reveal  to  us  aught  beside  the  immensity 
of  the  abyss. 

When  we  say  to  ourselves,  "  This  thing 
is  of  nature's  devising ;  it  is  she  has  or- 
dained this  marvel ;  those  are  her  desires 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

that  we  see  before  us  ! "  the  fact  is  merely 
that  our  special  attention  has  been  drawn 
to  some  tiny  manifestation  of  life  upon 
the  boundless  surface  of  matter  that  we 
deem  inactive,  and  choose  to  describe,  with 
evident  inaccuracy,  as  nothingness  and 
death.  A  purely  fortuitous  chain  of 
events  has  allowed  this  special  manifesta- 
tion to  attract  our  attention  ;  but  a  thou- 
sand others,  no  less  interesting,  perhaps, 
and  informed  with  no  less  intelligence, 
have  vanished,  not  meeting  with  a  like 
good-fortune,  and  have  lost  for  ever  the 
chance  of  exciting  our  wonder.  It  were 
rash  to  affirm  aught  beside ;  and  all  that 
remains,  our  reflections,  our  obstinate 
search  for  the  final  cause,  our  admiration 
dnd  hopes  —  all  these  in  truth  are  no 
more  than  our  feeble  cry  as,  in  the  depths 
of  the  unknown,  we  clash  against  what  is 
more  unknowable  still ;  and  this  feeble 
cry  declares  the  highest  degree  of  indi- 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

vidual  existence  attainable  for  us  on  this 
mute  and  impenetrable  surface,  even  as 
the  flight  of  the  condor,  the  song  of  the 
nightingale,  reveal  to  tnem  the  highest 
degree  of  existence  their  species  allows. 
But  the  evocation  of  this  feeble  cry,  when- 
ever opportunity  offers,  is  none  the  less 
one  of  our  most  unmistakable  duties ;  nor 
should  we  let  ourselves  be  discouraged  by 
its  apparent  futility. 


230 


7 

THE   YOUNG  QUEENS 


H 


V 

THE  YOUNG   QUEENS 

[64] 

ERE  let  us  close  our  hive,  where  we 
find  that  life  is  reassuming  its  cir- 
cular movement,  is  extending  and  multi- 
plying, to  be  again  divided  as  soon  as  it 
shall  attain  the  fulness  of  its  happiness 
and  strength ;  and  let  us  for  the  last  time 
reopen  the  mother-city,  and  see  what  is 
happening  there  after  the  departure  of  the 
swarm. 

The  tumult  having  subsided,  the  hap- 
less city,  that  two  thirds  of  her  children 
have  abandoned  for  ever,  becomes  feeble, 
empty,  moribund  ;  like  a  body  from  which 
the  blood  has  been  drained.  Some  thou- 
sands of  bees  have  remained,  however  ;  and 
233 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

these,  though  a  trifle  languid  perhaps,  are 
still  immovably  faithful  to  the  duty  a 
precise  destiny  has  laid  upon  them,  still 
conscious  of  the  part  that  they  have  them- 
selves to  play ;  they  resume  their  labours, 
therefore,  fill  as  best  they  can  the  place 
of  those  who  have  gone,  remove  all  trace 
of  the  orgy,  carefully  house  the  provisions 
that  have  escaped  pillage,  sally  forth  to 
the  flowers  again,  and  keep  scrupulous 
guard  over  the  hostages  of  the  future. 

And  for  all  that  the  moment  may 
appear  gloomy,  hope  abounds  wherever 
the  eye  may  turn.  We  might  be  in  one 
of  the  castles  of  German  legend,  whose 
walls  are  composed  of  myriad  phials  con- 
taining the  souls  of  men  about  to  be  born. 
For  we  are  in  the  abode  of  life  that  goes 
before  life.  On  all  sides,  asleep  in  their 
closely  sealed  cradles,  in  this  infinite 
superposition  of  marvellous  six-sided  cells, 
lie  thousands  of  nymphs,  whiter  than 
234 


The  Young  Queens 

milk,  who  with  folded  arms  and  head 
bent  forward  await  the  hour  of  awakening. 
In  their  uniform  tombs,  that,  isolated, 
become  nearly  transparent,  they  seem 
almost  like  hoary  gnomes,  lost  in  deep 
thought,  or  legions  of  virgins  whom  the 
folds  of  the  shroud  have  contorted,  who 
are  buried  in  hexagonal  prisms  that  some 
inflexible  geometrician  has  multiplied  to 
the  verge  of  delirium. 

Over  the  entire  area  that  the  vertical 
walls  enclose,  and  in  the  midst  of  this 
growing  world  that  so  soon  shall  trans- 
form itself,  that  shall  four  or  five  times  in 
succession  assume  fresh  vestments,  and 
then  spin  its  own  winding-sheet  in  the 
shadow,  hundreds  of  workers  are  dancing 
and  flapping  their  wings.  They  appear 
thus  to  generate  the  necessary  heat,  and 
accomplish  some  other  object  besides  that 
is  still  more  obscure;  for  this  dance  of 
theirs  contains  some  extraordinary  move- 
235 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ments,  so  methodically  conceived  that  they 
must  infallibly  answer  some  purpose  which 
no  observer  has  as  yet,  I  believe,  been 
able  to  divine. 

A  few  days  more,  and  the  lids  of  these 
myriad  urns  —  whereof  a  considerable  hive 
will  contain  from  sixty  to  eighty  thousand 
—will  break,  and  two  large  and  earnest 
black  eyes  will  appear,  surmounted  by 
antennae  that  already  are  groping  at  life, 
while  active  jaws  are  busily  engaged  in 
enlarging  the  opening  from  within.  The 
nurses  at  once  come  running;  they  help 
the  young  bee  to  emerge  from  her 
prison,  they  clean  her  and  brush  her,  and 
at  the  tip  of  their  tongue  present  the 
first  honey  of  the  new  life.  But  the  bee, 
that  has  come  from  another  world,  is  be- 
wildered still,  trembling  and  pale ;  she 
wears  the  feeble  look  of  a  little  old  man 
who  might  have  escaped  from  his  tomb, 
or  perhaps  of  a  traveller  strewn  with  the 
236 


The  Young  Queens 

powdery  dust  of  the  ways  that  lead  unto 
life.  She  is  perfect,  however,  from  head 
to  foot  ;  she  knows  at  once  all  that  has  to 
be  known  ;  and,  like  the  children  of  the 
people,  who  learn,  as  it  were,  at  their  birth, 
that  for  them  there  shall  never  be  time 
to  play  or  to  laugh,  she  instantly  makes 
her  way  to  the  cells  that  are  closed,  and 
proceeds  to  beat  her  wings  and  to  dance 
in  cadence,  so  that  she  in  her  turn  may 
quicken  her  buried  sisters  ;  nor  does  she 
for  one  instant  pause  to  decipher  the 
astounding  enigma  of  her  destiny,  or  her 
race. 


The  most  arduous  labours  will,  how- 
ever, at  first  be  spared  her.  A  week 
must  elapse  from  the  day  of  her  birth 
before  she  will  quit  the  hive;  she  will 
then  perform  her  first  "  cleansing  flight," 
and  absorb  the  air  into  her  trachese,  which, 
237 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

filling,  expand  her  body,  and  proclaim  hei 
the  bride  of  space.  Thereupon  she  re- 
turns to  the  hive,  and  waits  yet  one  week 
more ;  and  then,  with  her  sisters  born 
the  same  day  as  herself,  she  will  for  the 
first  time  set  forth  to  visit  the  flowen. 
A  special  emotion  now  will  lay  hold  of 
her ;  one  that  French  apiarists  term  the 
"  soleil  d' artifice,"  but  which  might  more 
rightly  perhaps  be  called  the  "  sun  of  dis- 
quiet." For  it  is  evident  that  the  bees 
are  afraid,  that  these  daughters  of  the 
crowd,  of  secluded  darkness,  shrink  from 
the  vault  of  blue,  from  the  infinite  loneli- 
ness of  the  light;  and  their  joy  is  halting, 
and  woven  of  terror.  They  cross  the 
threshold  and  pause;  they  depart,  they 
return,  twenty  times.  They  hover  aloft 
in  the  air,  their  head  persistently  turned 
to  the  home ;  they  describe  great  soaring 
circles  that  suddenly  sink  beneath  the 
weight  of  regret ;  and  their  thirteen  thou« 
238 


The  Young  Queens 

sand  eyes  will  question,  reflect,  and  retain 
the  trees  and  the  fountain,  the  gate  and 
the  walls,  the  neighbouring  windows  and 
houses,  till  at  last  the  aerial  course  where- 
on their  return  shall  glide  have  become 
as  indelibly  stamped  in  their  memory  as 
though  it  were  marked  in  space  by  two 
lines  of  steel. 

[66] 

A  new  mystery  confronts  us  here,  which 
we  shall  do  well  to  challenge ;  for  though 
it  reply  not,  its  silence  still  will  extend  the 
field  of  our  conscious  ignorance,  which 
is  the  most  fertile  of  all  that  our  activity 
knows.  How  do  the  bees  contrive  to 
find  their  way  back  to  the  hive  that  they 
cannot  possibly  see,  that  is  hidden,  per- 
haps, by  the  trees,  that  in  any  event  must 
form  an  imperceptible  point  in  space? 
How  is  it  that  if  taken  in  a  box  to  a  spot 
two  or  three  miles  from  their  home,  they 
239 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

will  almost  invariably  succeed  in   finding 
their  way  back  ? 

Do  obstacles  offer  no  barrier  to  their 
sight;  do  they  guide  themselves  by  cer- 
tain indications  and  landmarks;  or  do  they 
possess  that  peculiar,  imperfectly  under- 
stood sense  that  we  ascribe  to  the  swal- 
lows and  pigeons,  for  instance,  and  term 
the  "  sense  of  direction  "  ?  The  experi- 
ments of  J.  H.  Fabre,  of  Lubbock,  and, 
above  all,  of  Romanes  (Nature,  29  Oct. 
1886)  seem  to  establish  that  it  is  not  this 
strange  instinct  that  guides  them.  I  have, 
on  the  other  hand,  more  than  once  no- 
ticed that  they  appear  to  pay  no  attention 
to  the  colour  or  form  of  the  hive.  They 
are  attracted  rather  by  the  ordinary  ap- 
pearance of  the  platform  on  which  their 
home  reposes,  by  the  position  of  the 
entrance,  and  of  the  alighting-board.  But 
this  even  is  merely  subsidiary ;  were  the 
front  of  the  hive  to  be  altered  from  top 

240 


The  Young  Queens 

to  bottom,  during  the  workers'  absence, 
they  would  still  unhesitatingly  direct  their 
course  to  it  from  out  the  far  depths  of  the 
horizon;  and  only  when  confronted  by 
the  unrecognisable  threshold  would  they 
seem  for  one  instant  to  pause.  Such  ex- 
periments as  lie  in  our  power  point  rather 
to  their  guiding  themselves  by  an  extraor- 
dinarily minute  and  precise  appreciation 
of  landmarks.  It  is  not  the  hive  that 
they  seem  to  remember,  but  its  position, 
calculated  to  the  minutest  fraction,  in  its 
relation  to  neighbouring  objects.  And  so 
marvellous  is  this  appreciation,  so  mathe- 
matically certain,  so  profoundly  inscribed 
in  their  memory,  that  if,  after  five  months' 
hibernation  in  some  obscure  cellar,  the 
hive,  when  replaced  on  the  platform, 
should  be  set  a  little  to  right  or  to  left  of 
its  former  position,  all  the  workers,  on 
their  return  from  the  earliest  flowers,  will 
infallibly  steer  their  direct  and  unwavering 
\6  241 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

course  to  the  precise  spot  that  it  filled 
the  previous  year;  and  only  after  some 
hesitation  and  groping  will  they  discover 
the  door  which  stands  not  now  where  it 
once  had  stood.  It  is  as  though  space 
had  preciously  preserved,  the  whole 
winter  through,  the  indelible  track  of 
their  flight:  as  though  the  print  of  their 
tiny,  laborious  footsteps,  still  lay  graven 
in  the  sky. 

If  the  hive  be  displaced,  therefore, 
many  bees  will  lose  their  way ;  except 
in  the  case  of  their  having  been  carried 
far  from  their  former  home,  and  finding 
the  country  completely  transformed  that 
they  had  grown  to  know  perfectly  within 
a  radius  of  two  or  three  miles ;  for 
then,  if  care  be  taken  to  warn  them, 
by  means  of  a  little  gangway  connecting 
with  the  alighting-board,  at  the  entrance 
to  the  hive,  that  some  change  has 
occurred,  they  will  at  once  proceed  to 


The  Young  Queens 
seek  new  bearings  and  create  fresh  land 
marks. 

[67] 

And  now  let  us  return  to  the  city  that 
is  being  repeopled,  where  myriad  cradles 
are  incessantly  opening,  and  the  solid  walls 
even  appear  to  be  moving.  But  this  city 
still  lacks  a  queen.  Seven  or  eight  curi- 
ous structures  arise  from  the  centre  of  one 
of  the  combs,  and  remind  us,  scattered  as 
they  are  over  the  surface  of  the  ordinary 
cells,  of  the  circles  and  protuberances  that 
appear  so  strange  on  the  photographs  of 
the  moon.  They  are  a  species  of  capsule, 
contrived  of  wrinkled  wax  or  of  inclined 
glands,  hermetically  sealed,  which  fills  the 
place  of  three  or  four  workers'  cells.  As 
a  rule,  they  are  grouped  around  the  same 
point ;  and  a  numerous  guard  keep  watch, 
with  singular  vigilance  and  restlessness, 
over  this  region  that  seems  instinct  with 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

an  indescribable  prestige.  It  is  here  that 
the  mothers  are  formed.  In  each  one  of 
these  capsules,  before  the  swarm  departs, 
an  egg  will  be  placed  by  the  mother,  or 
more  probably  —  though  as  to  this  we 
have  no  certain  knowledge  —  by  one  of 
the  workers ;  an  egg  that  she  will  have 
taken  from  some  neighbouring  cell,  and 
that  is  absolutely  identical  with  those  from 
which  workers  are  hatched. 

From  this  egg,  after  three  days,  a  small 
larva  will  issue,  and  receive  a  special  and 
very  abundant  nourishment ;  and  hence- 
forth we  are  able  to  follow,  step  by  step, 
the  movements  of  one  of  those  magnifi- 
cently vulgar  methods  of  nature  on  which, 
were  we  dealing  with  men,  we  should 
bestow  the  august  name  of  fatality.  The 
little  larva,  thanks  to  this  regimen,  as- 
sumes an  exceptional  development ;  and 
in  its  ideas,  no  less  than  in  its  body,  there 
ensues  so  considerable  a  change  that  the 
244 


The  Young  Queens 

bee  to  which  it  will  give  birth  might 
almost  belong  to  an  entirely  different  race 
of  insects. 

Four  or  five  years  will  be  the  period  of 
her  life,  instead  of  the  six  or  seven  weeks 
of  the  ordinary  worker.  Her  abdomen 
will  be  twice  as  long,  her  colour  more 
golden,  and  clearer;  her  sting  will  be 
curved,  and  her  eyes  have  seven  or  eight 
thousand  facets  instead  of  twelve  or  thir- 
teen thousand.  Her  brain  will  be  smaller, 
but  she  will  possess  enormous  ovaries, 
and  a  special  organ  besides,  the  sperma- 
theca,  that  will  render  her  almost  an 
hermaphrodite.  None  of  the  instincts 
will  be  hers  that  belong  to  a  life  of  toil ; 
she  will  have  no  brushes,  no  pockets 
wherein  to  secrete  the  wax,  no  baskets  to 
gather  the  pollen.  The  habits,  the  pas- 
sions, that  we  regard  as  inherent  in  the 
bee,  will  all  be  lacking  in  her.  She  will 
not  crave  for  air,  or  the  light  of  the  sun; 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

she  will  die  without  even  once  having 
tasted  a  flower.  Her  existence  will  pass 
in  the  shadow,  in  the  midst  of  a  restless 
throng  ;  her  sole  occupation  the  indefat- 
igable search  for  cradles  that  she  must 
fill.  On  the  other  hand  she  alone  will 
know  the  disquiet  of  love.  Not  even 
twice,  it  may  be,  in  her  life  shall  she  look 
on  the  light  —  for  the  departure  of  the 
swarm  is  by  no  means  inevitable ;  on  one 
occasion  only,  perhaps,  will  she  make  use 
of  her  wings,  but  then  it  will  be  to  fly  to 
her  lover.  It  is  strange  to  see  so  many 
things  —  organs,  ideas,  desires,  habits,  an 
entire  destiny  —  depending,  not  on  a 
germ,  which  were  the  ordinary  miracle  of 
the  plant,  the  animal,  and  man,  but  on 
a  curious  inert  substance :  a  drop  of 
honey.1 

1  It  is  generally  admitted  to-day  that  workers  and 
queens,  after  the  hatching  of  the  egg,  receive  the  same 
nourishment,  — a  kind  of  milk,  very  rich  in  nitrogen, 
246 


The  Young  Queens 

[68] 

About  a  week  has  passed  since  the 
departure  of  the  old  queen.  The  royal 
nymphs  asleep  in  the  capsules  are  not  all 
of  the  same  age,  for  it  is  to  the  interest 
of  the  bees  that  the  births  should  be 
nicely  gradationed,  and  take  place  at 
regular  intervals,  in  accordance  with  their 
possible  desire  for  a  second  swarm,  a 
third,  or  even  a  fourth.  The  workers 
have  for  some  hours  now  been  actively 
thinning  the  walls  of  the  ripest  cell,  while 
the  young  queen,  from  within,  has  been 
simultaneously  gnawing  the  rounded  lid 
of  her  prison.  And  at  last  her  head 
appears;  she  thrusts  herself  forward; 

that  a  special  gland  in  the  nurses'  head  secretes.  But 
after  a  few  days  the  worker  larvae  are  weaned,  and  put 
on  a  coarser  diet  of  honey  and  pollen  ;  whereas  the 
future  queen,  until  she  be  fully  developed,  is  copiously 
fed  on  the  precious  milk  known  aa  «« royal  jelly." 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

and,  with  the  help  of  the  guardians  who 
hasten  eagerly  to  her,  who  brush  her, 
caress  her,  and  clean  her,  she  extricates 
herself  altogether  and  takes  her  first  steps 
on  the  comb.  At  the  moment  of  birth 
she  too,  like  the  workers,  is  trembling 
and  pale,  but  after  ten  minutes  or  so  her 
legs  become  stronger,  and  a  strange  rest- 
lessness seizes  her ;  she  feels  that  she  is 
not  alone,  that  her  kingdom  has  yet  to 
be  conquered,  that  close  by  pretenders 
are  hiding;  and  she  eagerly  paces  the 
waxen  walls  in  search  of  her  rivals.  But 
there  intervene  here  the  mysterious  deci- 
sions and  wisdom  of  instinct,  of  the  spirit 
of  the  hive,  or  of  the  assembly  of  work- 
ers. The  most  surprising  feature  of  all, 
as  we  watch  these  things  happening  be- 
fore us  in  a  hive  of  glass,  is  the  entire 
absence  of  hesitation,  of  the  slightest 
division  of  opinion.  There  is  not  a  trace 
of  discussion  or  discord.  The  atmosphere 
348 


The  Young  Queens 

of  the  city  is  one  of  absolute  unanimity^ 
preordained,  which  reigns  over  all ;  and 
every  one  of  the  bees  would  appear  to 
know  in  advance  the  thought  of  her 
sisters.  And  yet  this  moment  is  the 
gravest,  the  most  vital,  in  their  entire 
history.  They  have  to  choose  between 
three  or  four  courses  whose  results,  in  the 
distant  future,  will  be  totally  different; 
which,  too,  the  slightest  accident  may 
render  disastrous.  They  have  to  rec- 
oncile the  multiplication  of  species  — 
which  is  their  passion,  or  innate  duty  — 
with  the  preservation  of  the  hive  and 
its  people.  They  will  err  at  times; 
they  will  successively  send  forth  three  or 
four  swarms,  thereby  completely  denuding 
the  mother-city  ;  and  these  swarms,  too 
feeble  to  organise,  will  succumb,  it  may 
be,  at  the  approach  of  winter,  caught  un- 
awares by  this  climate  of  ours,  which  ia 
different  far  from  their  original  climate,  that 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

the  bees,  notwithstanding  all,  have  never 
forgotten.  In  such  cases  they  suffer  from 
what  is  known  as  "  swarming  fever  ;  " 
a  condition  wherein  life,  as  in  ordinary 
fever,  reacting  too  ardently  on  itself, 
passes  its  aim,  completes  the  circle,  and 
discovers  only  death. 


Of  all  the  decisions  before  them  there 
is  none  that  would  seem  imperative  ;  nor 
can  man,  if  content  to  play  the  part  of 
spectator  only,  foretell  in  the  slightest 
degree  which  one  the  bees  will  adopt 
But  that  the  most  careful  deliberation 
governs  their  choice  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  we  are  able  to  influence,  or  even 
determine  it,  by  for  instance  reducing  or 
enlarging  the  space  we  accord  them;  or 
by  removing  combs  full  of  honey,  and 
setting  up,  in  their  stead,  empty  combs 
which  are  well  supplied  with  workers'  cells 
250 


The  Young  Queens 

The  question  they  have  to  consider  is 
not  whether  a  second  or  third  swarm 
shall  be  immediately  launched,  —  for  in 
arriving  at  such  a  decision  they  would 
merely  be  blindly  and  thoughtlessly 
yielding  to  the  caprice  or  temptation  of  a 
favourable  moment,  —  but  the  instanta- 
neous, unanimous  adoption  of  measures 
that  shall  enable  them  to  issue  a  second 
swarm  or  "  cast"  three  or  four  days  after 
the  birth  of  the  first  queen,  and  a  third 
swarm  three  days  after  the  departure  of 
the  second,  with  this  first  queen  at  their 
head.  It  must  be  admitted,  therefore, 
that  we  discover  here  a  perfectly  reasoned 
system,  and  a  mature  combination  of  plans 
extending  over  a  period  considerable  in- 
deed when  compared  with  the  brevity  of 
the  bee's  existence. 


251 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 


These  measures  concern  the  care  of  the 
youthful  queens  who  still  lie  immured  in 
their  waxen  prisons.  Let  us  assume  that 
the  "  spirit  of  the  hive  "  has  pronounced 
against  the  despatch  of  a  second  swarm. 
Two  courses  still  remain  open.  The 
bees  may  permit  the  first-born  of  the 
royal  virgins,  the  one  whose  birth  we  have 
witnessed,  to  destroy  her  sister-enemies; 
or  they  may  elect  to  wait  till  she  have 
performed  the  perilous  ceremony  known 
as  the  "  nuptial  flight,"  whereon  the 
nation's  future  depends.  The  immediate 
massacre  will  be  authorised  often,  and 
often  denied  ;  but  in  the  latter  case  it  is 
of  course  not  easy  for  us  to  pronounce 
whether  the  bees'  decision  be  due  to  a  de- 
sire for  a  second  swarm,  or  to  their  recog- 
nition of  the  dangers  attending  the  nuptial 
flight  ;  for  it  will  happen  at  times  that,  on 
252 


The  Young  Queens 

account  of  the  weather  unexpectedly  be-* 
coming  less  favourable,  or  for  some  other 
reason  we  cannot  divine,  they  will  suddenly 
change  their  mind,  renounce  the  cast  that 
they  had  decreed,  and  destroy  the  royal 
progeny  they  had  so  carefully  preserved. 
But  at  present  we  will  suppose  that  they 
have  determined  to  dispense  with  a  second 
swarm,  and  that  they  accept  the  risks 
of  the  nuptial  flight.  Our  young  queen 
hastens  towards  the  large  cradles,  urged 
on  by  her  great  desire,  and  the  guard 
make  way  before  her.  Listening  only  to 
her  furious  jealousy,  she  will  fling  herself 
on  to  the  first  cell  she  comes  across, 
madly  strip  off  the  wax  with  her  teeth 
and  claws,  tear  away  the  cocoon  that  car- 
pets the  cell,  and  divest  the  sleeping 
princess  of  every  covering.  If  her  rival 
should  be  already  recognisable,  the  queen 
will  turn  so  that  her  sting  may  enter  the 
capsule,  and  will  frantically  stab  it  with 
253 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

her  venomous  weapon  until  the  victim 
perish.  She  then  becomes  calmer,  ap- 
peased by  the  death  that  puts  a  term  to 
the  hatred  of  every  creature ;  she  with- 
draws her  sting,  hurries  to  the  adjoining 
cell,  attacks  it  and  opens  it,  passing  it 
by  should  she  find  in  it  only  an  im- 
perfect larva  or  nymph ;  nor  does  she 
pause  till,  at  last,  exhausted  and  breath- 
less, her  claws  and  teeth  glide  harmless 
over  the  waxen  walls. 

The  bees  that  surround  her  have  calmly 
watched  her  fury,  have  stood  by,  inac- 
tive, moving  only  to  leave  her  path  clear ; 
but  no  sooner  has  a  cell  been  pierced 
and  laid  waste  than  they  eagerly  flock 
to  it,  drag  out  the  corpse  of  the  rav- 
ished nymph,  or  the  still  living  larva, 
and  thrust  it  forth  from  the  hive,  there- 
upon gorging  themselves  with  the  pre- 
cious royal  jelly  that  adheres  to  the  sides 
of  the  cell.  And  finally,  when  the  queen 
254 


The  Young  Queens 

has  become  too  weak  to  persist  in  her 
passion,  they  will  themselves  complete  the 
massacre  of  the  innocents ;  and  the  sover- 
eign race,  and  their  dwellings,  will  all 
disappear. 

This  is  the  terrible  hour  of  the  hive ; 
the  only  occasion,  with  that  of  the  more 
justifiable  execution  of  the  drones,  when 
the  workers  suffer  discord  and  death  to  be 
busy  amongst  them ;  and  here,  as  often  in 
nature,  it  is  the  favoured  of  love  who 
attract  to  themselves  the  most  extraor- 
dinary shafts  of  violent  death. 

It  will  happen  at  times  that  two  queens 
will  be  hatched  simultaneously,  the  occur- 
rence being  rare,  however,  for  the  bees 
taire  special  care  to  prevent  it.  But  when- 
ever this  does  take  place,  the  deadly  com- 
bat will  begin  the  moment  they  emerge 
from  their  cradles ;  and  of  this  combat 
Huber  was  the  first  to  remark  an  extraor- 
dinary feature.  Each  time,  it  would  seem 

255 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

that  the  queens,  in  their  passes,  present 
their  chitrinous  cuirasses  to  each  other  in 
v.uch  a  fashion  that  the  drawing  of  the 
sting  would  prove  mutually  fatal ;  one 
might  almost  believe  that,  even  as  a  god 
or  goddess  was  wont  to  interpose  in  the 
combats  of  the  Iliad,  so  a  god  or  a  god- 
dess, the  divinity  of  the  race,  perhaps, 
interposes  here;  and  the  two  warriors, 
stricken  with  simultaneous  terror,  divide 
and  fly,  to  meet  shortly  after  and  separate 
again  should  the  double  disaster  once  more 
menace  the  future  of  their  people ;  till  at 
last  one  of  them  shall  succeed  in  surprising 
her  clumsier  or  less  wary  rival,  and  in 
killing  her  without  risk  to  herself.  For 
the  law  of  the  race  has  called  for  one 
sacrifice  only. 

[7-3 

The  cradles  having  thus  been  destroyed 
and  the  rivals  all  slain,  the  young  queen  is 
256 


The  Young  Queens 

accepted  by  her  people  ;  but  she  will  not 
truly  reign  over  them,  or  be  treated  as  was 
her  mother  before  her,  until  the  nuptial 
flight  be  accomplished;  for  until  she  be 
impregnated  the  bees  will  hold  her  but 
lightly,  and  render  most  passing  homage. 
Her  history,  however,  will  rarely  be  as  un- 
eventful as  this,  for  the  bees  will  not  often 
renounce  their  desire  for  a  second  swarm. 
In  that  case,  as  before,  quick  with  the 
same  desires,  the  queen  will  approach  the 
royal  cells ;  but  instead  of  meeting  with 
docile  servants  who  second  her  efforts, 
she  will  find  her  path  blocked  by  a 
numerous  and  hostile  guard.  In  her  fury, 
and  urged  on  by  her  fixed  idea,  she  will 
endeavour  to  force  her  way  through,  or  to 
outflank  them ;  but  everywhere  sentinels 
are  posted  to  protect  the  sleeping  prin- 
cesses. She  persists,  she  returns  to  the 
charge,  to  be  repulsed  with  ever  increasing 
severity,  to  be  somewhat  roughly  handled 
'7  257 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

even,  until  at  last  she  begins  vaguely 
to  understand  that  these  little  inflexible 
workers  stand  for  a  law  before  which  that 
law  must  bend  whereby  she  is  inspired. 

And  at  last  she  goes,  and  wanders  from 
comb  to  comb,  her  unsatisfied  wrath  find- 
ing vent  in  a  war-song,  or  angry  complaint, 
that  every  bee-keeper  knows ;  resembling 
somewhat  the  note  of  a  distant  trumpet 
of  silver;  so  intense,  in  its  passionate 
feebleness,  as  to  be  clearly  audible,  in  the 
evening  especially,  two  or  three  yards 
from  the  double  walls  of  the  most  carefully 
enclosed  hive. 

Upon  the  workers  this  royal  cry  has  a 
magical  effect.  It  terrifies  them,  it  in- 
duces a  kind  of  respectful  stupor;  and 
when  the  queen  sends  it  forth,  as  she 
halts  in  front  of  the  cells  whose  approach 
is  denied  her,  the  guardians  who  have  but 
this  moment  been  hustling  ner,  pushing 
her  back,  will  at  once  desist,  and  wait, 
258 


The  Young  Queens 

with  bent  head,  till  the  cry  shall  have 
ceased  to  resound.  Indeed,  some  believe 
that  it  is  thanks  to  the  prestige  of  this 
cry,  which  the  Sphinx  Atropos  imitates, 
that  the  latter  is  able  to  enter  the  hive, 
and  gorge  itself  with  honey,  without  the 
least  molestation  on  the  part  of  the  bees. 

For  two  or  three  days,  sometimes  even 
for  five,  this  indignant  lament  will  be 
heard,  this  challenge  that  the  queen  ad- 
dresses to  her  well  protected  rivals.  And 
as  these  in  their  turn  develop,  in  their  turn 
grow  anxious  to  see  the  light,  they  too  set 
to  work  to  gnaw  the  lids  of  their  cells. 
A  mighty  disorder  would  now  appear  to 
threaten  the  republic.  But  the  genius  of 
the  hive,  at  the  time  that  it  formed  its 
decision,  was  able  to  foretell  every  conse- 
quence that  might  ensue;  and  the  guar- 
dians have  had  their  instructions :  they 
know  exactly  what  must  be  done,  hour  by 
hour,  to  meet  the  attacks  of  a  foiled  in- 
259 


The  Life  of  the  Bet 

stinct,  and  conduct  two  opposite  forces  to 
a  successful  issue.  They  are  fully  aware 
that  if  the  young  queens  should  escape  who 
now  clamour  for  birth,  they  would  fall  into 
the  hands  of  their  elder  sister,  by  this  time 
irresistible,  who  would  destroy  them  one  by 
one.  The  workers,  therefore,  will  pile  on 
fresh  layers  of  wax  in  proportion  as  the 
prisoner  reduces,  from  within,  the  walls  of 
her  tower ;  and  the  impatient  princess  will 
ardently  persist  in  her  labour,  little  sus- 
pecting that  she  has  to  deal  with  an  en- 
chanted obstacle,  that  rises  ever  afresh 
from  its  ruin.  She  hears  the  war-cry  of 
her  rival ;  and  already  aware  of  her  royal 
duty  and  destiny,  although  she  has  not 
yet  looked  upon  life,  nor  knows  what  a 
hive  may  be,  she  answers  the  challenge 
from  within  the  depths  of  her  prison. 
But  her  cry  is  different ;  it  is  stifled  and 
hollow,  for  it  has  to  traverse  the  walls  of 
a  tomb ;  and,  when  night  is  falling,  and 
260 


The  Young  Queens 

noises  are  hushed,  and  high  over  all  then 
reigns  the  silence  of  the  stars,  the  apiarist 
who  nears  these  marvellous  cities  and 
stands,  questioning,  at  their  entrance, 
recognises  and  understands  the  dialogue 
that  is  passing  between  the  wandering 
queen  and  the  virgins  in  prison. 


To  the  young  princesses,  however,  this 
prolonged  reclusion  is  of  material  benefit  ; 
for  when  they  at  last  are  freed  they  have 
grown  mature  and  vigorous,  and  are  able 
to  fly.  But  during  this  period  of  waiting 
the  strength  of  the  first  queen  has  also 
increased,  and  is  sufficient  now  to  enable 
her  to  face  the  perils  of  the  voyage.  The 
time  has  arrived,  therefore,  for  the  depar- 
ture of  the  second  swarm,  or  "  cast,"  with 
the  first-born  of  the  queens  at  its  head, 
No  sooner  has  she  gone  than  the  worker* 
left  in  the  hive  will  set  one  of  the  prisoners 
261 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

free ;  and  she  will  evince  the  same  murder- 
ous desires,  send  forth  the  same  cries  of 
anger,  until,  at  last,  after  three  or  four 
days,  she  will  leave  the  hive  in  her  turn, 
at  the  head  of  the  tertiary  swarm ;  and  so 
in  succession,  in  the  case  of  "  swarming 
fever,"  till  the  mother-city  shall  be  com- 
pletely exhausted. 

Swammerdam  cites  a  hive  that,  through 
its  swarms  and  the  swarms  of  its  swarms, 
was  able  in  a  single  season  to  found  no 
less  than  thirty  colonies. 

Such  extraordinary  multiplication  is 
above  all  noticeable  after  disastrous  win- 
ters; and  one  might  almost  believe  that 
the  bees,  forever  in  touch  with  the  secret 
desires  of  nature,  are  conscious  of  the 
dangers  that  menace  their  race.  But  at 
ordinary  times  this  fever  will  rarely  occur 
in  a  strong  and  well-governed  hive. 
There  are  many  that  swarm  only  once,' 
and  some,  indeed,  not  at  all 
262 


The  Young  Queens 

After  the  second  swarm  the  bees,  as  a 
rule,  will  renounce  further  division,  owing 
either  to  their  having  observed  the  exces- 
sive feebleness  of  their  own  stock,  or  to 
the  prudence  urged  upon  them  by  threaten- 
ing skies.  In  that  case  they  will  allow 
the  third  queen  to  slaughter  the  captives ; 
ordinary  life  will  at  once  be  resumed,  and 
pursued  with  the  more  ardour  for  the 
reason  that  the  workers  are  all  very  young, 
that  the  hive  is  depopulated  and  impover- 
ished, and  that  there  are  great  voids  to 
fill  before  the  arrival  of  winter. 

[73] 

The  departure  of  the  second  and  third 
swarms  resembles  that  of  the  first,  and  the 
conditions  are  identical,  with  the  exception 
that  the  bees  are  fewer  in  number,  less 
circumspect,  and  lacking  in  scouts ;  and 
also  that  the  young  and  virgin  queen, 
being  unencumbered  and  ardent,  will  fly 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

much  further,  and  in  the  first  stage  lead 
the  swarm  to  a  considerable  distance  from 
the  hive.  The  conduct  of  these  second 
and  third  migrations  will  be  far  more  rash, 
and  their  future  more  problematical.  The 
queen  at  their  head,  the  representative  of 
the  future,  has  not  yet  been  impregnated. 
Their  entire  destiny  depends  on  the  ensu- 
ing nuptial  flight.  A  passing  bird,  a  few 
drops  of  rain,  a  mistake,  a  cold  wind  — 
any  one  of  these  may  give  rise  to  irreme- 
diable disaster.  Of  this  the  bees  are  so 
well  aware  that  when  the  young  queen 
sallies  forth  in  quest  of  her  lover,  they 
often  will  abandon  the  labours  they  have 
begun,  will  forsake  the  home  of  a  day  that 
already  is  dear  to  them,  and  accompany 
her  in  a  body,  dreading  to  let  her  pass 
out  of  their  sight,  eager,  as  they  form 
closely  around  her,  and  shelter  her  be- 
neath their  myriad  devoted  wings,  to  lose 
themselves  with  her,  should  love  cause 
•fe 


The  Young  Queens 

her  to  stray  so  far  from  the  hive  that  the 
as  yet  unfamiliar  road  of  return  shall  grow 
blurred  and  hesitating  in  every  memory. 

[74] 

But  so  potent  is  the  law  of  the  future 
that  none  of  these  uncertainties,  these 
perils  of  death,  will  cause  a  single  bee 
to  waver.  The  enthusiasm  displayed  by 
the  second  and  third  swarms  is  not  less 
than  that  of  the  first.  No  sooner  has 
the  mother-city  pronounced  its  decision 
than  a  battalion  of  workers  will  flock 
around  each  dangerous  young  queen, 
eager  to  follow  her  fortunes,  to  accom- 
pany her  on  the  voyage  where  there  is 
so  much  to  lose,  and  so  little  to  gain 
beyond  the  desire  of  a  satisfied  instinct. 
Whence  do  they  derive  the  energy  we 
ourselves  never  possess,  whereby  they 
break  with  the  past  as  though  with  an 
enemy?  Who  is  it  selects  from  the 
265 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

crowd  those  who  shall  go  forth,  and  de- 
clares who  shall  remain  ?  No  special 
class  divides  those  who  stay  from  those 
who  wander  abroad;  it  will  be  the 
younger  here  and  the  elder  there ;  around 
each  queen  who  shall  never  return  vete- 
ran foragers  jostle  tiny  workers,  who 
for  the  first  time  shall  face  the  dizziness 
of  the  blue.  Nor  is  the  proportionate 
strength  of  a  swarm  controlled  by  chance 
or  accident,  by  the  momentary  dejection 
or  transport  of  an  instinct,  thought,  or 
feeling.  I  have  more  than  once  tried 
to  establish  a  relation  between  the  num- 
ber of  bees  composing  a  swarm  and  the 
number  of  those  that  remain ;  and  al- 
though the  difficulties  of  this  calculation 
are  such  as  to  preclude  anything  ap- 
proaching mathematical  precision,  I  have 
at  least  been  able  to  gather  that  this 
relation  —  if  we  take  into  account  the 
brood-cells,  or  in  other  words  the  forth- 
266 


The  Young  Queens 

coming  births  —  is  sufficiently  constant 
to  point  to  an  actual  and  mysterious 
reckoning  on  the  part  of  the  genius  of 
the  hive. 

[75]      ,,  , 

We  will  not  follow  these  swarms  on 
their  numerous,  and  often  most  compli- 
cated, adventures.  Two  swarms,  at  times, 
will  join  forces ;  at  others,  two  or  three 
of  the  imprisoned  queens  will  profit  by 
the  confusion  attending  the  moment  of 
departure  to  elude  the  watchfulness  of 
their  guardians  and  join  the  groups  that 
are  forming.  Occasionally,  too,  one  of 
the  young  queens,  finding  herself  sur- 
rounded by  males,  will  cause  herself  to 
be  impregnated  in  the  swarming  flight, 
and  will  then  drag  all  her  people  to  an 
extraordinary  height  and  distance.  In 
the  practice  of  apiculture  these  secondary 
and  tertiary  swarms  are  always  returned 
267 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

to  the  mother-hive.  The  queens  will 
meet  on  the  comb ;  the  workers  will 
gather  around  and  watch  their  combat; 
and,  when  the  stronger  has  overcome 
the  weaker  they  will  then,  in  their  ardour 
for  work  and  hatred  of  disorder,  expel 
the  corpses,  close  the  door  on  the  vio- 
lence of  the  future,  forget  the  past,  return 
to  their  cells,  and  resume  their  peaceful 
path  to  the  flowers  that  await  them. 

[76] 

We  will  now,  in  order  to  simplify 
matters,  return  to  the  queen  whom  the 
bees  have  permitted  to  slaughter  her 
sisters,  and  resume  the  account  of  her 
adventures.  As  I  have  already  stated, 
this  massacre  will  be  often  prevented,  and 
often  sanctioned,  at  times  even  when  the 
bees  apparently  do  not  intend  to  issue  a 
second  swarm ;  for  we  notice  the  same 
diversity  of  political  spirit  in  the  differ- 
268 


The  Young  Queens 

ent  hives  of  an  apiary  as  in  the  different 
human  nations  of  a  continent.  But  it  is 
clear  that  the  bees  will  act  imprudently 
in  giving  their  consent ;  for  if  the  queen 
should  die,  or  stray  in  the  nuptial  flight, 
it  will  be  impossible  to  fill  her  place, 
the  workers'  larvae  having  passed  the 
age  when  they  are  susceptible  of  royal 
transformation.  Let  us  assume,  how- 
ever, that  the  imprudence  has  been 
committed ;  and  behold  our  first-born, 
therefore,  unique  sovereign,  and  recog- 
nised as  such  in  the  spirit  of  her  people. 
But  she  is  still  a  virgin.  To  become  as 
was  the  mother  before  her,  it  is  essential 
that  she  should  meet  the  male  within  the 
first  twenty  days  of  her  life.  Should  the 
event  for  some  reason  be  delayed  beyond 
this  period,  her  virginity  becomes  irrevo- 
cable. And  yet  we  have  seen  that  she  is 
not  sterile,  virgin  though  she  be.  There 
confronts  us  here  the  great  mystery  —  or 
269 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

precaution  —  of  Nature,  that  is  known 
as  parthenogenesis,  and  is  common  to  a 
certain  number  of  insects,  such  as  the 
aphides,  the  lepidoptera  of  the  Psyche 
genus,  the  hymenoptera  of  the  Cynipede 
family,  etc.  The  virgin  queen  is  able  to 
lay;  but  from  all  the  eggs  that  she  will 
deposit  in  the  cells,  be  these  large  or 
small,  there  will  issue  males  alone  ;  arid 
as  these  never  work,  as  they  live  at  the 
expense  of  the  females,  as  they  never  go 
foraging  except  on  their  own  account, 
and  are  generally  incapable  of  providing 
for  their  subsistence,  the  result  will  be, 
at  the  end  of  some  weeks,  that  the  last 
exhausted  worker  will  perish,  and  the 
colony  be  ruined  and  totally  annihilated. 
The  queen,  we  have  said,  will  produce 
thousands  of  drones  ;  and  each  of  these 
will  possess  millions  of  the  spermatozoa 
whereof  it  is  impossible  that  a  single  one 
can  have  penetrated  into  the  organism  of 
270 


The  Young  Queens 

the  mother.  That  may  not  be  more  as- 
tounding, perhaps,  than  a  thousand  other 
and  analogous  phenomena;  and,  indeed, 
when  we  consider  these  problems,  and 
more  especially  those  of  generation,  the 
marvellous  and  the  unexpected  confront 
us  so  constantly — occurring  far  more  fre- 
quently, and  above  all  in  far  less  human 
fashion,  than  in  the  most  miraculous  fairy 
stories  —  that  after  a  time  astonishment 
becomes  so  habitual  with  us  that  we  almost 
cease  to  wonder.  The  fact,  however,  is 
sufficiently  curious  to  be  worthy  of  notice. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  how  shall  we 
explain  to  ourselves  the  aim  that  nature 
can  have  in  thus  favouring  the  valueless 
drones  at  the  cost  of  the  workers  who  are 
so  essential  ?  Is  she-  afraid  lest  the  fe- 
males might  perhaps  be  induced  by  their 
intellect  unduly  to  limit  the  number  of 
their  parasites,  which,  destructive  though 
they  be,  are  still  necessary  for  the  preser- 
271 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

vation  of  the  race  ?  Or  is  it  merely  an 
exaggerated  reaction  against  the  misfor- 
tune of  the  unfruitful  queen  ?  Can  we 
have  here  one  of  those  blind  and  extreme 
precautions  which,  ignoring  the  cause  of 
the  evil,  overstep  the  remedy ;  and,  in 
the  endeavour  to  prevent  an  unfortunate 
accident,  bring  about  a  catastrophe?  In 
reality  —  though  we  must  not  forget  that 
the  natural,  primitive  reality  is  different 
from  that  of  the  present,  for  in  the  origi- 
nal forest  the  colonies  might  well  be  far 
more  scattered  than  they  are  to-day  — 
in  reality  the  queen's  unfruitful  ness  will 
rarely  be  due  to  the  want  of  males,  for 
these  are  very  numerous  always,  and  will 
flock  from  afar ;  but  rather  to  the  rain,  or 
the  cold,  that  will  have  kept  her  too  long 
in  the  hive,  and  more  frequently  still  to  the 
imperfect  state  of  her  wings,  whereby  she 
will  be  prevented  from  describing  the  high 
flight  in  the  air  that  the  organ  of  the  male 
272 


The  Young  Queens 

demands.  Nature,  however,  heedless  of 
these  more  intrinsic  causes,  is  so  deeply 
concerned  with  the  multiplication  of 
males,  that  we  sometimes  find,  in  mother- 
less hives,  two  or  three  workers  possessed 
of  so  great  a  desire  to  preserve  the  race 
that,  their  atrophied  ovaries  notwithstand- 
ing, they  will  still  endeavour  to  lay ;  and, 
their  organs  expanding  somewhat  beneath 
the  empire  of  this  exasperated  sentiment, 
they  will  succeed  in  depositing  a  few  eggs 
in  the  cells ;  but  from  these  eggs,  as  from 
those  of  the  virgin  mother,  there  will 
issue  only  males. 

[77] 

Here  we  behold  the  active  intervention 
of  a  superior  though  perhaps  imprudent 
will,  which  offers  irresistible  obstruction 
to  the  intelligent  will  of  a  life.  In  the 
insect  world  such  interventions  are  corn- 
pa'  «1tively  frequent,  and  much  can  be 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

gained  from  their  study ;  for  this  world 
being  more  densely  peopled  and  more 
complex  than  others,  certain  special  desires 
of  nature  are  often  more  palpably  revealed 
to  us  there ;  and  she  may  even  at  times 
be  detected  in  the  midst  of  experiments 
we  might  almost  be  warranted  in  regard- 
ing as  incomplete.  She  has  one  great  and 
general  desire,  for  instance,  that  she  dis- 
plays on  all  sides ;  the  amelioration  ot 
each  species  through  the  triumph  of  the 
stronger.  This  struggle,  as  a  rule,  is 
most  carefully  organised.  The  hecatomb 
of  the  weak  is  enormous,  but  that  matters 
little  so  long  as  the  victors'  reward  be 
effectual  and  certain.  But  there  are  cases 
when  one  might  almost  imagine  that  na- 
ture had  not  had  time  enough  to  disen- 
tangle her  combinations;  cases  where 
reward  is  impossible,  and  the  fate  of  the 
victor  no  less  disastrous  than  that  of  the 
vanquished.  And  of  such,  selecting  an 
274 


The  Young  Queens 

instance  that  will  not  take  us  too  far  from 
our  bees,  I  know  of  no  instance  more 
striking  than  that  of  the  triongulins  of  the 
Sitaris  colletes.  And  it  will  be  seen  that, 
in  many  details,  this  story  is  less  foreign 
to  the  history  of  man  than  might  perhaps 
be  imagined. 

These  triongulins  are  the  primary  larvae 
of  a  parasite  proper  to  a  wild,  obtuse- 
tongued,  solitary  bee,  the  Colletes,  which 
builds  its  nest  in  subterranean  galleries. 
It  is  their  habit  to  lie  in  wait  for  the  bee 
at  the  approach  to  these  galleries ;  and 
then,  to  the  number  of  three,  four,  five, 
or  often  of  more,  they  will  leap  on  hef 
back,  and  bury  themselves  in  her  hair. 
Were  the  struggle  of  the  weak  against  the 
strong  to  take  place  at  this  moment  there 
would  be  no  more  to  be  said,  and  all  would 
pass  in  accordance  with  universal  law. 
But,  for  a  reason  we  know  not,  their  in- 
stinct requires,  and  nature  has  consequently 
275. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ordained,  that  they  should  hold  them*, 
selves  tranquil  so  long  as  they  remain  on 
the  back  of  the  bee.  They  patiently  bide 
their  time  while  she  visits  the  flowers,  and 
constructs  and  provisions  her  cells.  But 
no  sooner  has  an  egg  been  laid  than  they 
all  spring  upon  it ;  and  the  innocent  col- 
letes  carefully  seals  down  her  cell,  which 
she  has  duly  supplied  with  food,  never 
suspecting  that  she  has  at  the  same  time 
ensured  the  death  of  her  offspring, 

The  cell  has  scarcely  been  closed  when 
the  triongulins  grouped  round  the  egg 
engage  in  the  inevitable  and  salutary  com' 
bat  of  natural  selection.  The  stronger, 
more  agile,  will  seize  its  adversary  be- 
neath the  cuirass,  and,  raising  it  aloft,  will 
maintain  it  for  hours  in  its  mandibles  until 
the  victim  expire.  But,  while  this  fight 
is  in  progress,  another  of  the  triongulins, 
that  had  either  no  rival  to  meet,  or  already 
has  conquered,  takes  possession  of  the 

376 


The  Young  Queens 

egg  and  bursts  it  open.  The  ultimate 
victor  has  therefore  this  fresh  enemy  to 
subdue  ;  but  the  conquest  is  easy,  for  the 
triongulin,  deep  in  the  satisfaction  of  its 
pre-natal  hunger,  clings  obstinately  to  the 
egg,  and  does  not  even  attempt  to  defend 
itself.  It  is  quickly  despatched ;  and  the 
other  is  at  last  alone,  and  possessor  of 
the  precious  egg  it  has  won  so  well.  It 
eagerly  plunges  its  head  into  the  opening 
its  predecessor  had  made ;  and  begins  the 
lengthy  repast  that  shall  transform  it  into 
a  perfect  insect.  But  nature,  that  has 
decreed  this  ordeal  of  battle,  has,  on  the 
other  hand,  established  the  prize  of  vic- 
tory with  such  miserly  precision  that 
nothing  short  of  an  entire  egg  will  suffice 
for  the  nourishment  of  a  single  triongulin. 
So  that,  as  we  are  informed  by  M.  Mayet, 
to  whom  we  owe  the  account  of  these  dis- 
concerting adventures,  there  is  lacking  to 
our  conaueror  the  food  its  last  victim  con- 
-277 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

sumed  before  death  ;  and  incapable  there- 
fore of  achieving  the  first  stage  of  its 
transformation,  it  dies  in  its  turn,  adher- 
ing to  the  skin  of  the  egg,  or  adding  itself, 
in  the  sugary  liquid,  to  the  number  of 
the  drowned. 

[78] 

This  case,  though  rarely  to  be  followed 
so  closely,  is  not  unique  in  natural  history. 
We  have  here,  laid  bare  before  us,  the 
struggle  between  the  conscious  will  of  the 
triongulin,  that  seeks  to  live,  and  the 
obscure  and  general  will  of  nature,  that 
not  only  desires  that  the  triongulin  should 
live,  but  is  anxious  even  that  its  life  should 
be  improved,  and  fortified,  to  a  degree 
beyond  that  to  which  its  own  will  impels 
it.  But,  through  some  strange  inadver- 
tence, the  amelioration  nature  imposes  sup- 
presses the  life  of  even  the  fittest,  and  the 
Sitaris  Colletes  would  have  long  since  dis- 
278 


The  Young  Queens 

appeared  had  not  chance,  acting  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  desires  of  nature,  permitted 
isolated  individuals  to  escape  from  the 
excellent  and  far-seeing  law  that  ordains 
on  all  sides  the  triumph  of  the  stronger. 

Can  this  mighty  power  err,  then,  that 
seems  unconscious  to  us,  but  necessarily 
wise,  seeing  that  the  life  she  organises  and 
maintains  is  forever  proving  her  to  be 
right  ?  Can  feebleness  at  times  overcome 
that  supreme  reason,  which  we  are  apt  to 
invoke  when  we  have  attained  the  limits 
of  our  own  ?  And  if  that  be  so,  by  whom 
shall  this  feebleness  be  set  right  ? 

But  let  us  return  to  that  special  form 
of  her  resistless  intervention  that  we  find 
in  parthenogenesis.  And  we  shall  do 
well  to  remember  that,  remote  as  the 
world  may  seem  in  which  these  problems 
confront  us,  they  do  indeed  yet  concern 
ourselves  very  nearly.  Who  would  dare 
to  affirm  that  no  interventions  take  place 
279 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  the  sphere  of  man —  interventions  that 
may  be  more  hidden,  but  not  the  less 
fraught  with  danger?  And  in  the  case 
before  us,  which  is  right,  in  the  end,  —  the 
insect,  or  nature  ?  What  would  happen 
if  the  bees,  more  docile  perhaps,  or 
endowed  with  a  higher  intelligence,  were 
too  clearly  to  understand  the  desires  of 
nature,  and  to  follow  them  to  the  extreme ; 
to  multiply  males  to  infinity,  seeing  that 
nature  is  imperiously  calling  for  males  ? 
Would  they  not  risk  the  destruction  of 
their  species  ?  Are  we  to  believe  that 
there  are  intentions  in  nature  that  it  is 
dangerous  to  understand  too  clearly,  fatal 
to  follow  with  too  much  ardour ;  and  that 
it  is  one  of  her  desires  that  we  should  not 
divine,  and  follow,  all  her  desires  ?  Is  it 
not  possible  that  herein  there  may  lie  one 
of  the  perils  of  the  human  race  ?  We  too 
are  aware  of  unconscious  forces  within  us, 
would  appear  to  demand  the  reverse 


The  Young  Queens 

of  what  our  intellect  urges.  And  this 
intellect  of  ours,  that,  as  a  rule,  its  own 
boundary  reached,  knows  not  whither  to 
go  —  can  it  be  well  that  it  should  join 
itself  to  these  forces,  and  add  to  them  its 
unexpected  weight? 

[79] 

Have  we  the  right  to  conclude,  from 
the  dangers  of  parthenogenesis,  that  nature 
is  not  always  able  to  proportion  the  means 
to  the  end ;  and  that  what  she  intends  to 
preserve  is  preserved  at  times  by  means  of 
precautions  she  has  to  contrive  against  her 
own  precautions,  and  often  through  foreign 
circumstances  she  has  not  herself  foreseen  ? 
But  is  there  anything  she  does  foresee, 
anything  she  does  intend  to  preserve? 
Nature,  some  may  say,  is  a  word  where- 
with we  clothe  the  unknowable ;  and  few 
things  authorise  our  crediting  it  with 
intelligence,  or  with  aim.  That  is  true. 
281 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

We  touch  here  the  hermetically  sealed 
vases  that  furnish  our  conception  of  the 
universe.  Reluctant,  over  and  over 
again,  to  label  these  with  the  inscription 
"  UNKNOWN,"  that  disheartens  us  and 
compels  us  to  silence,  we  engrave  upon 
them,  in  the  degree  of  their  size  and 
grandeur,  the  words  "  Nature,  life,  death, 
infinite,  selection,  spirit  of  the  race,"  and 
many  others,  even  as  those  who  went 
before  us  affixed  the  words  "  God,  Provi- 
dence, destiny,  reward,"  etc.  Let  it  be 
so,  if  one  will,  and  no  more.  But,  though 
the  contents  of  the  vases  remain  obscure, 
there  is  gain  at  least  in  the  fact  that  the 
inscriptions  to-day  convey  less  menace  to 
us,  that  we  are  able  therefore  to  approach 
them  and  touch  them,  and  lay  our  ears 
close  to  them  and  listen,  with  wholesome 
curiosity. 

But  whatever  the    name  we  attach   to 
these  vases,  it  is  certain  that  one  of  them, 
282 


The  Young  Queens 

at  least,  and  the  greatest  —  that  which 
bears  on  its  flank  the  name  "  Nature  "  — 
encloses  a  very  real  force,  the  most  real 
of  all,  and  one  that  is  able  to  preserve  an 
enormous  and  marvellous  quantity  and 
quality  of  life  on  our  globe,  by  means  so 
skilful  that  they  surpass  all  that  the  genius 
of  man  could  contrive.  Could  this  quan- 
tity and  quality  be  maintained  by  other 
means  ?  Is  it  we  who  deceive  ourselves 
when  we  imagine  that  we  see  precautions 
where  perhaps  there  is  truly  no  more  than 
a  fortunate  chance,  that  has  survived  a 
million  unfortunate  chances  ? 

[so] 

That  may  be  ;  but  these  fortunate 
chances  teach  us  a  lesson  in  admiration 
as  valuable  as  those  we  might  learn  in  re- 
gions superior  to  chance.  If  we  let  our 
gaze  travel  beyond  the  creatures  that  are 
possessed  of  a  glimmer  of  intellect  and 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

consciousness,  beyond  the  protozoa  even, 
vrhich  are  the  first  nebulous  representatives 
of  the  dawning  animal  kingdom,  we  find, 
as  has  been  abundantly  proved  by  the  ex- 
periments of  Mr.  H.  J.  Carter,  the  cele 
brated  microscopist,  that  the  very  lowest 
embryos,  such  as  the  myxomycetes,  mani- 
fest a  will  and  desires  and  preferences  ; 
and  that  infusoria,  which  apparently  have 
no  organism  whatever,  give  evidence  of  a 
certain  cunning.  The  Amoebae,  for  in- 
stance, will  patiently  lie  in  wait  for  the 
new-born  Acinetes,  as  they  leave  the  ma- 
ternal ovary  ;  being  aware  that  these  must 
as  yet  be  lacking  their  poisonous  tentacles. 
Now,  the  Amoebae  have  neither  a  nervous 
system  nor  distinguishable  organs  of  any 
kind.  Or  if  we  turn  to  the  plants,  which, 
being  motionless,  would  seem  exposed  to 
every  fatality,  —  without  pausing  to  con- 
sider carnivorous  species  like  the  Drusera, 
which  really  act  as  animals, — we  are  struck 
284 


The  Young  Queens 

by  the  genius  that  some  of  our  humblest 
flowers  display  in  contriving  that  the  visit 
of  the  bee  shall  infallibly  procure  them 
the  crossed  fertilisation  they  need.  See 
the  marvellous  fashion  in  which  the  Or- 
chis Moris,  our  humble  country  orchidj 
rombines  the  play  of  its  rostellum  and 
retinacula ;  observe  the  mathematical  and 
automatic  inclination  and  adhesion  of  its 
pollinia  ;  as  also  the  unerring  double  see- 
saw of  the  anthers  of  the  wild  sage,  which 
touch  the  body  of  the  visiting  insect  at  a 
particular  spot  in  order  that  the  insect 
may,  in  its  turn,  touch  the  stigma  of  the 
neighbouring  flower  at  another  particular 
spot ;  watch,  too,  in  the  case  of  the  Pedi- 
cularis  Sylvatica,  the  successive,  calculated 
movements  of  its  stigma;  and  indeed  the 
entrance  of  the  bee  into  any  one  of  these 
three  flowers  sets  every  organ  vibrating, 
just  as  the  skilful  marksman  who  hits  the 
black  spot  on  the  target  will  cause  all  the 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

figures  to  move  in  the  elaborate  mechan- 
isms we  see  in  our  village  fairs. 

We  might  go  lower  still,  and  show,  as 
Ruskin  has  shown  in  his  "  Ethics  of  the 
Dust,"  the  character,  habits,  and  artifices 
of  crystals ;  their  quarrels,  and  mode  of 
procedure,  when  a  foreign  body  attempts 
to  oppose  their  plans,  which  are  more 
ancient  by  far  than  our  imagination  can 
conceive;  the  manner  in  which  they  ao-* 
mit  or  repel  an  enemy,  the  possible  vic- 
tory of  the  weaker  over  the  stronger,  as, 
for  instance,  when  the  all-powerful  quartz 
submits  to  the  humble  and  wily  epidote, 
and  allows  this  last  to  conquer  it;  the 
struggle,  terrible  sometimes  and  some- 
times magnificent,  between  the  rock-crystal 
and  iron  ;  the  regular,  immaculate  expan- 
sion and  uncompromising  purity  of  one 
hyaline  block,  which  rejects  whatever  is 
foul,  and  the  sickly  growth,  the  evident 
immorality,  of  its  brother  which  admits 


The  Young  Queens 

corruption,  and  writhes  miserably  in  the 
void ;  as  we  might  quote  also  the  strange 
phenomena  of  crystalline  cicatrisation  and 
reintegration  mentioned  by  Claude  Ber' 
nard,  etc.  But  the  mystery  here  becomes 
too  foreign  to  us.  Let  us  keep  to  our 
flowers,  which  are  the  last  expression  of  a 
life  that  has  yet  some  kinship  with  our 
own.  We  are  not  dealing  now  with  ani- 
mals or  insects,  to  which  we  attribute  a 
special,  intelligent  will,  thanks  to  which 
they  survive.  We  believe,  rightly  or 
wrongly,  that  the  flowers  possess  no  such 
will ;  at  least  we  cannot  discover  in  them 
the  slightest  trace  of  the  organs  wherein 
will,  intellect,  and  initiative  of  action,  are 
usually  born  and  reside.  It  follows, 
therefore,  that  all  that  acts  in  them  in  so 
admirable  a  fashion  must  directly  proceed 
from  what  we  elsewhere  call  nature.  We 
are  no  longer  concerned  with  the  intellect 
of  the  individual ;  here  we  find  the  uik 
987 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

conscious,  undivided  force  in  the  act  of 
ensnaring  other  forms  of  itself.  Shall  we 
on  that  account  refuse  to  believe  that 
these  snares  are  pure  accidents,  occurring 
in  accordance  with  a  routine  that  is  also 
incidental  ?  We  are  not  yet  entitled  to 
such  a  deduction.  It  might  be  urged 
that  these  flowers,  had  these  miraculous 
combinations  not  been,  would  not  have 
survived,  but  would  have  had  their  place 
filled  by  others  that  stood  in  no  need  of 
Crossed  fertilisation;  and  the  non-exist- 
ence of  the  first  would  have  been  per- 
ceived by  none,  nor  would  the  life  that 
vibrates  on  the  earth  have  seemed  less  in- 
comprehensible to  us,  less  diverse,  or  less 
astounding. 

And  yet  it  would  be  difficult  not  to  ad- 
mit that  acts  which  bear  all  the  appearance 
of  acts  of  intelligence  and  prudence  pro- 
duce and  support  these  fortunate  chances. 
Whence  do  they  issue,  —  from  the  being 
288 


The  Young  Queens 

itself,  or  from  the  force  whence  that  being 
draws  life  ?  I  will  not  say  "  it  matters  but 
little,"  for,  on  the  contrary,  to  know  the 
answer  were  of  supreme  importance  to  us. 
But,  in  the  meantime,  and  till  we  shall  learn 
whether  it  be  the  flower  that  endeavours 
to  maintain  and  perfect  the  life  that  nature 
has  placed  within  it,  or  whether  it  be  na- 
ture that  puts  forth  an  effort  to  maintain 
and  improve  the  degree  of  existence  the 
flower  has  assumed,  or  finally  whether  it 
be  chance  that  ultimately  governs  chana 
a  multitude  of  semblances  invite  us  tt 
believe  that  something  equal  to  our  lof 
tiest  thoughts  issues  at  times  from  a  com- 
mon source,  that  we  are  compelled  td 
admire  without  knowing  where  it  resides. 
There  are  moments  when  what  seemi 
error  to  us  comes  forth  from  this  com- 
mon source.  But,  although  we  know 
very  few  things,  proofs  abound  that  the 
seeming  error  was  in  reality  an  act  of 
19  280 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

prudence  that  we  at  first  could  not  grasp. 
In  the  little  circle,  even,  that  our  eyes 
embrace  we  are  constantly  shown  that 
what  we  regarded  as  nature's  blunder 
close  by  was  due  to  her  deeming  it 
well  to  adjust  the  presumed  inadvertence 
out  yonder.  She  has  placed  the  three 
flowers  we  mentioned  under  conditions 
of  such  difficulty  that  they  are  unable  to 
fertilise  themselves;  she  considers  it  ben- 
eficial, therefore,  for  reasons  beyond  our 
powers  of  perception,  that  they  should 
cause  themselves  to  be  fertilised  by  their 
neighbours ;  and,  inasmuch  as  she  en- 
hances the  intelligence  of  her  victims,  she 
displays  on  our  right  the  genius  she  failed 
to  display  on  our  left.  The  byways  of 
this  genius  of  hers  remain  incomprehen- 
sible to  us,  but  its  level  is  always  the 
same.  It  will  appear  to  fall  into  error  — 
assuming  that  error  be  possible  —  there- 
upon rising  again  at  once  in  the  organ 

2QO 


The  Young  Queens 

charged  to  repair  this  error.  Turn  where 
we  may,  it  towers  high  over  our  heads. 
It  is  the  circular  ocean,  the  tideless  water, 
whereon  our  boldest  and  most  independ- 
ent thoughts  will  never  be  more  than 
mere  abject  bubbles.  We  call  it  Nature 
to-day ;  to-morrow,  perhaps,  we  shall  give 
it  another  name,  softer  or  more  alarming. 
In  the  meanwhile  it  holds  simultaneous, 
impartial  sway  over  life  and  death  ;  fur- 
nishing the  two  irreconcilable  sisters  with 
the  magnificent  and  familiar  weapons  that 
adorn  and  distract  its  bosom. 

[81] 

Does  this  force  take  measures  to  main- 
tain what  may  be  struggling  on  its  sur- 
face, or  must  we  say,  arguing  in  the 
strangest  of  circles,  that  what  floats  on 
its  surface  must  guard  itself  against  the 
genius  that  has  given  it  life  ?  That  ques- 
tion must  be  left  open.  We  have  &t 
291 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

means  of  ascertaining  whether  it  be  not- 
withstanding the  efforts  of  the  superior 
will,  or  independently  of  these,  or  lastly 
because  of  these,  that  a  species  has  been 
able  to  survive. 

All  we  can  say  is  that  such  a  species 
exists,  and  that,  on  this  point,  therefore, 
nature  would  seem  to  be  right.  But  who 
shall  tell  us  how  many  others  that  we 
have  not  known  have  fallen  victim  to  her 
restless  and  forgetful  intellect  ?  Beyond 
this,  we  can  recognise  only  the  surprising 
and  occasionally  hostile  forms  that  the 
extraordinary  fluid  we  call  life  assumes, 
in  utter  unconsciousness  sometimes,  at 
others  with  a  kind  of  consciousness :  the 
fluid  which  animates  us  equally  with  all 
the  rest,  which  produces  the  very  thoughts 
that  judge  it,  and  the  feeble  voice  that 
attempts  to  tell  its  story. 


292 


VI 

THE   NUPTIAL  FLIGHT 


VI 

THE   NUPTIAL   FLIGHT 

[82] 

WE  will  now  consider  the  manner  in 
which  the  impregnation  of  the 
queen-bee  comes  to  pass.  Here  again  na- 
ture has  taken  extraordinary  measures  to 
favour  the  union  of  males  with  females 
of  a  different  stock ;  a  strange  law,  whereto 
nothing  would  seem  to  compel  her ;  a 
caprice,  or  initial  inadvertence,  perhaps, 
whose  reparation  calls  for  the  most  mar- 
vellous forces  her  activity  knows. 

If  she  had  devoted  half  the  genius  she 
lavishes  on  crossed  fertilisation  and  other 
arbitrary  desires  to  making  life  more  cer- 
tain, to  alleviating  pain,  to  softening  death 
and  warding  off  horrible  accidents,  the. 
295 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

universe  would  probably  have  presented 
an  enigma  less  incomprehensible,  less 
pitiable,  than  the  one  we  are  striving  to 
solve.  But  our  consciousness,  and  the 
interest  we  take  in  existence,  must  grap- 
ple, not  with  what  might  have  been,  but 
with  what  is. 

Around  the  virgin  queen,  and  dwelling 
with  her  in  the  hive,  are  hundreds  of  ex- 
uberant males,  forever  drunk  on  honey; 
the  sole  reason  for  their  existence  being 
one  act  of  love.  But,  notwithstanding 
the  incessant  contact  of  two  desires  that 
elsewhere  invariably  triumph  over  every 
obstacle,  the  union  never  takes  place  in 
the  hive,  nor  has  it  been  possible  to  bring 
about  the  impregnation  of  a  captive  queen.1 

1  Professor  McLain  has  recently  succeeded  in  caus- 
ing a  few  queens  to  be  artificially  impregnated ;  but 
this  has  been  the  result  of  a  veritable  surgical  opera- 
tion, of  the  most  delicate  and  complicated  nature. 
Moreover,  the  fertility  of  the  queens  was  restricted 
and  ephemeral. 

ao6 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

While  she  lives  in  their  midst  the  lover* 
about  her  know  not  what  she  is.  They 
seek  her  in  space,  in  the  remote  depths  of 
the  horizon,  never  suspecting  that  they  have 
but  this  moment  quitted  her,  have  shared 
the  same  comb  with  her,  have  brushed 
against  her,  perhaps,  in  the  eagerness  of 
their  departure.  One  might  almost  be- 
lieve that  those  wonderful  eyes  of  theirs, 
that  cover  their  head  as  though  with  a 
glittering  helmet,  do  not  recognise  or  de- 
sire her  save  when  she  soars  in  the  blue. 
Each  day,  from  noon  till  three,  when  the 
sun  shines  resplendent,  this  plumed  horde 
sallies  forth  in  search  of  the  bride,  who  is 
indeed  more  royal,  more  difficult  of  con- 
quest, than  the  most  inaccessible  princess 
of  fairy  legend ;  for  twenty  or  thirty  tribes 
will  hasten  from  all  the  neighbouring  cities, 
her  court  thus  consisting  of  more  than 
ten  thousand  suitors ;  and  from  these  ten 
thousand  one  alone  will  be  chosen  for  the 
297 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

unique  kiss  of  an  instant  that  shall  wed 
him  to  death  no  less  than  to  happiness ; 
while  the  others  will  fly  helplessly  round 
the  intertwined  pair,  and  soon  will  perish 
without  ever  again  beholding  this  prodi- 
gious and  fatal  apparition. 

[83]         j 

I  am  not  exaggerating  this  wild  and 
amazing  prodigality  of  nature.  The  best- 
conducted  hives  will,  as  a  rule,  contain 
four  to  five  hundred  males.  Weaker  or 
degenerate  ones  will  often  have  as  many 
as  four  or  five  thousand ;  for  the  more  a 
hive  inclines  to  its  ruin,  the  more  males 
will  it  produce.  It  may  be  said  that,  on 
an  average,  an  apiary  composed  of  ten 
colonies  will  at  a  given  moment  send  an 
army  of  ten  thousand  males  into  the  air, 
of  whom  ten  or  fifteen  at  most  will  have 
the  occasion  of  performing  the  one  act 
for  which  they  were  born. 
298 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

In  the  meanwhile  they  exhaust  the  supf 
plies  of  the  city  ;  each  one  of  the  parasites 
requiring  the  unceasing  labour  of  five  or 
six  workers  to  maintain  it  in  its  abound- 
ing and  voracious  idleness,  its  activity 
being  indeed  solely  confined  to  its  jaws. 
But  nature  is  always  magnificent  when 
dealing  with  the  privileges  and  preroga- 
tives of  love.  She  becomes  miserly  only 
when  doling  out  the  organs  and  instru- 
ments of  labour.  She  is  especially  severe 
on  what  men  have  termed  virtue,  whereas 
she  strews  the  path  of  the  most  unin- 
teresting lovers  with  innumerable  jewels 
and  favours.  "  Unite  and  multiply  ; 
there  is  no  other  law,  or  aim,  than  love," 
would  seem  to  be  her  constant  cry  on 
all  sides,  while  she  mutters  to  herself, 
perhaps :  "  and  exist  afterwards  if  you 
can  ;  that  is  no  concern  of  mine."  Do 
or  desire  what  else  we  may,  we  find> 
everywhere  on  our  road,  this  morality 
299 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

that  differs  so  much  from  our  own 
And  note,  too,  in  these  same  little  crea- 
tures, her  unjust  avarice  and  insensate 
waste.  From  her  birth  to  her  death, 
the  austere  forager  has  to  travel  abroad 
in  search  of  the  myriad  flowers  that 
hide  in  the  depths  of  the  thickets.  She 
has  to  discover  the  honey  and  pollen 
that  lurk  in  the  labyrinths  of  the  nectaries 
and  in  the  most  secret  recesses  of  the 
anthers.  And  yet  her  eyes  and  olfactory 
organs  are  like  the  eyes  and  organs  of 
the  infirm,  compared  with  those  of  the 
male.  Were  the  drones  almost  blind,  had 
they  only  the  most  rudimentary  sense  of 
smell,  they  scarcely  would  suffer.  They 
have  nothing  to  do,  no  prey  to  hunt 
down ;  their  food  is  brought  to  them 
ready  prepared,  and  their  existence  is  spent 
in  the  obscurity  of  the  hive,  lapping  honey 
from  the  comb.  But  they  are  the  agents 

of  love  ;  and  the  most  enormous,  most  use- 
300 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

less  gifts  are  flung  with  both  hands  into  the 
abyss  of  the  future.  Out  of  a  thousand 
of  them,  one  only,  once  in  his  life,  will 
have  to  seek,  in  the  depths  of  the  azure, 
the  presence  of  the  royal  virgin.  Out  of 
a  thousand  one  only  will  have,  for  one  in- 
stant, to  follow  in  space  the  female  who 
desires  not  to  escape.  That  suffices.  The 
partial  power  flings  open  her  treasury, 
wildly,  even  deliriously.  To  every  one 
of  these  unlikely  lovers,  of  whom  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-nine  will  be  put  to 
death  a  few  days  after  the  fatal  nuptials 
of  the  thousandth,  she  has  given  thirteen 
thousand  eyes  on  each  side  of  their  head, 
while  the  worker  has  only  six  thousand. 
According  to  Cheshire's  calculations,  she 
has  provided  each  of  their  antennae  with 
thirty-seven  thousand  eight  hundred  olfac- 
tory cavities,  while  the  worker  has  only 
five  thousand  in  both.  There  we  have 
an  instance  of  the  almost  universal  dis- 
301 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

proportion  that  exists  between  the  gifts 
she  rains  upon  love  and  her  niggardly 
doles  to  labour ;  between  the  favours  she 
accords  to  what  shall,  in  an  ecstasy,  create 
new  life,  and  the  indifference  wherewith 
she  regards  what  will  patiently  have  to 
maintain  itself  by  toil.  Whoever  would 
seek  faithfully  to  depict  the  character  of 
nature,  in  accordance  with  the  traits  we 
discover  here,  would  design  an  extraor- 
dinary figure,  very  foreign  to  our  ideal, 
which  nevertheless  can  only  emanate  from 
her.  But  too  many  things  are  unknown 
to  man  for  him  to  essay  such  a  portrait, 
wherein  all  would  be  deep  shadow  save 
one  or  two  points  of  flickering  light. 

[84] 

Very  few,  I  imagine,  have  profaned  the 

secret  of  the  queen-bee's  wedding,  which 

comes   to    pass    in    the    infinite,    radiant 

circles   of  a  beautiful   sky.     But  we   are 

302 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

able  to  witness  the  hesitating  departure 
of  the  bride-elect  and  the  murderous  re- 
turn of  the  bride. 

However  great  her  impatience,  she  will 
yet  choose  her  day  and  her  hour,  and 
linger  in  the  shadow  of  the  portal  till  a 
marvellous  morning  fling  open  wide  the 
nuptial  spaces  in  the  depths  of  the  great 
azure  vault.  She  loves  the  moment  when 
drops  of  dew  still  moisten  the  leaves 
and  the  flowers,  when  the  last  fragrance 
of  dying  dawn  still  wrestles  with  burning 
day,  like  a  maiden  caught  in  the  arms 
of  a  heavy  warrior;  when  through  the 
silence  of  approaching  noon  is  heard,  once 
and  again,  a  transparent  cry  that  has  lin- 
gered from  sunrise. 

Then  she  appears  on  the  threshold  — 
in  the  midst  of  indifferent  foragers,  if  she 
have  left  sisters  in  the  hive;  or  sur- 
rounded by  a  delirious  throng  of  workers, 
should  it  be  impossible  to  fill  her  place. 
303 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

She  starts  her  flight  backwards ;  returns 
twice  or  thrice  to  the  alighting-board ;  and 
then,  having  definitely  fixed  in  her  mind 
the  exact  situation  and  aspect  of  the  king- 
dom she  has  never  yet  seen  from  without, 
she  departs  like  an  arrow  to  the  zenith  of 
the  blue.  She  soars  to  a  height,  a  lumi- 
nous zone,  that  other  bees  attain  at  no 
period  of  their  life.  Far  away,  caressing 
their  idleness  in  the  midst  of  the  flowers, 
the  males  have  beheld  the  apparition, 
have  breathed  the  magnetic  perfume  that 
spreads  from  group  to  group  till  every 
apiary  near  is  instinct  with  it.  Immedi- 
ately crowds  collect,  and  follow  her  into 
the  sea  of  gladness,  whose  limpid  bounda- 
ries ever  recede.  She,  drunk  with  her 
wings,  obeying  the  magnificent  law  of  the 
race  that  chooses  her  lover,  and  enacts 
that  the  strongest  alone  shall  attain  her  in 
the  solitude  of  the  ether,  she  rises  still ; 
and,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  the  blue 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

morning  air  rushes  into  her  stigmata 
singing  its  song,  like  the  blood  of  heaven^ 
in  the  myriad  tubes  of  the  tracheal  sacs, 
nourished  on  space,  that  fill  the  centre  of 
her  body.  She  rises  still.  A  region 
must  be  found  unhaunted  by  birds,  that 
else  might  profane  the  mystery.  She 
rises  still ;  and  already  the  ill-assorted 
troop  below  are  dwindling  and  falling 
asunder.  The  feeble,  infirm,  the  aged, 
unwelcome,  ill-fed,  who  have  flown  from 
inactive  or  impoverished  cities,  these  re- 
nounce the  pursuit  and  disappear  in  the 
void.  Only  a  small,  indefatigable  clustei 
remain,  suspended  in  infinite  opal.  She 
summons  her  wings  for  one  final  effort  ,• 
and  now  the  chosen  of  incomprehensible 
forces  has  reached  her,  has  seized  her,  and 
bounding  aloft  with  united  impetus,  the 
ascending  spiral  of  their  intertwined  flight 
whirls  for  one  second  in  the  hostile  mad- 
aess  of  love. 

20  ,05 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[85] 

Most  creatures  have  a  vague  belief  that 
a  very  precarious  hazard,  a  kind  of  trans- 
parent membrane,  divides  death  from 
love ;  and  that  the  profound  idea  of 
nature  demands  that  the  giver  of  life 
should  die  at  the  moment  of  giving, 
Here  this  idea,  whose  memory  lingers  still 
over  the  kisses  of  man,  is  realised  in  its 
primal  simplicity.  No  sooner  has  the 
union  been  accomplished  than  the  male's 
abdomen  opens,  the  organ  detaches  itself, 
dragging  with  it  the  mass  of  the  entrails ; 
the  wings  relax,  and,  as  though  struck  by 
lightning,  the  emptied  body  turns  and 
turns  on  itself  and  sinks  down  into  the 
abyss. 

The  same  idea  that,  before,  in  partheno 
genesis,  sacrificed  the  future  of  the  hive  to 
the  unwonted  multiplication  of  males,  now 
sacrifices  the  male  to  the  future  of  the  hive. 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

This  idea  is  always  astounding;  and 
the  further  we  penetrate  into  it,  the  fewer 
do  our  certitudes  become.  Darwin,  for 
instance,  to  take  the  man  of  all  men 
who  studied  it  the  most  methodically 
and  most  passionately,  Darwin,  though 
scarcely  confessing  it  to  himself,  loses 
confidence  at  every  step,  and  retreats  be- 
fore the  unexpected  and  the  irreconcilable. 
Would  you  have  before  you  the  nobly 
Humiliating  spectacle  of  human  genius 
oattling  with  infinite  ^ower,  you  have  but 
to  follow  Darwin's  endeavours  to  unravel 
the  strange,  incoherent,  inconceivably 
mysterious  laws  of  the  sterility  and 
fecundity  of  hybrids,  or  of  the  varia- 
tions of  specific  and  generic  characters. 
Scarcely  has  he  formulated  a  principle 
when  numberless  exceptions  assail  him ; 
and  this  very  principle,  soon  completely 
overwhelmed,  is  glad  to  find  refuge  in 
some  corner,  and  preserve  a  shred  of 
3°7 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

existence    there    under    the    title    of    an 
exception. 

For  the  fact  is  that  in  hybridity,  in 
variability  (notably  in  the  simultaneous 
variations  known  as  correlations  of  growth]), 
in  instinct,  in  the  processes  of  vital  com- 
petition, in  geologic  succession  and  the 
geographic  distribution  of  organised  be- 
ings, in  mutual  affinities,  as  indeed  in 
every  other  direction,  the  idea  ot  nature 
reveals  itself,  in  one  and  the  same  phe- 
nomenon and  at  the  very  same  time,  as 
circumspect  and  shiftless,  niggard  and 
prodigal,  prudent  and  careless,  fickle  and 
stable,  agitated  and  immovable,  one 
and  innumerable,  magnificent  and  squalid. 
There  lay  open  before  her  the  immense 
and  virgin  fields  of  simplicity ;  she  chose 
to  people  them  with  trivial  errors,  with 
petf  y  contradictory  laws  that  stray  through 
existence  like  a  flock  of  blind  sheep.  It 
is  true  that  our  eye,  before  which  these 
308 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

things  happen,  can  only  reflect  a  reality 
proportionate  to  our  needs  and  our  stat- 
ure; nor  have  we  any  warrant  for  believ- 
ing that  nature  ever  loses  sight  of  her 
wandering  results  and  causes. 

In  any  event  she  will  rarely  permit 
them  to  stray  too  far,  or  approach  illogi- 
cal or  dangerous  regions.  She  disposes 
of  two  forces  that  never  can  err;  and 
when  the  phenomenon  shall  have  tres- 
passed beyond  certain  limits,  she  will 
beckon  to  life  or  to  death  —  which  ar- 
rives, re-establishes  order,  and  unconcern- 
edly marks  out  the  path  afresh. 

[86] 

She  eludes  us  on  every  side  ;  she  re- 
pudiates most  of  our  rules  and  breaks 
our  standards  to  pieces.  On  our  right 
she  sinks  far  beneath  the  level  of  our 
thoughts,  on  our  left  she  towers  moun- 
tain-high above  them.  She  appears  to 

JOQ 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

be  constantly  blundering,  no  less  in  the 
world  of  her  first  experiments  than  in  that 
of  her  last,  of  man.  There  she  invests 
with  her  sanction  the  instincts  of  the  ob- 
scure mass,  the  unconscious  injustice  of 
the  multitude,  the  defeat  of  intelligence 
and  virtue,  the  uninspired  morality  which 
urges  on  the  great  wave  of  the  race, 
though  manifestly  inferior  to  the  morality 
that  could  be  conceived  or  desired  by 
the  minds  composing  the  small  and  the 
clearer  wave  that  ascends  the  other.  And 
yet,  can  such  a  mind  be  wrong  if  it  ask 
itself  whether  the  whole  truth  —  moral 
truths,  therefore,  as  well  as  non-moral  — 
had  not  better  be  sought  in  this  chaos 
than  in  itself,  where  these  truths  would 
seem  comparatively  clear  and  precise  ? 

The    man    who    feels    thus  will    never 

attempt  to  deny  the  reason  or  virtue  of 

his  ideal,   hallowed    by   so    many    heroes 

and  sages  ;  but  there  are  times  when  he 

310 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

will  whisper  to  himself  that  this  ideal 
has  perhaps  been  formed  at  too  great  a 
distance  from  the  enormous  mass  whose 
diverse  beauty  it  would  fain  represent. 
He  has,  hitherto,  legitimately  feared  that 
the  attempt  to  adapt  his  morality  to  that 
of  nature  would  risk  the  destruction  of 
what  was  her  masterpiece.  But  to-day 
he  understands  her  a  little  better ;  and 
from  some  of  her  replies,  which,  though 
still  vague,  reveal  an  unexpected  breadth, 
he  has  been  enabled  to  seize  a  glimpse  of 
a  plan  and  an  intellect  vaster  than  could 
be  conceived  by  his  unaided  imagination  ; 
wherefore  he  has  grown  less  afraid,  nor 
feels  any  longer  the  same  imperious  need 
of  the  refuge  his  own  special  virtue  and 
reason  afford  him.  He  concludes  that 
what  is  so  great  could  surely  teach  noth- 
ing that  would  tend  to  lessen  itself.  He 
wonders  whether  the  moment  may  not 
have  arrived  for  submitting  to  a  more 
tir 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

judicious  examination  his  convictions,  his 
principles,  and  his  dreams. 

Once  more,  he  has  not  the  slightest  de- 
sire to  abandon  his  human  ideal.  That 
even  which  at  first  diverts  him  from  this 
ideal  teaches  him  to  return  to  it.  It 
were  impossible  for  nature  to  give  ill 
advice  to  a  man  who  declines  to  include 
in  the  great  scheme  he  is  endeavouring 
to  grasp,  who  declines  to  regard  as  suffi- 
ciently lofty  to  be  definitive,  any  truth 
that  is  not  at  least  as  lofty  as  the  truth  he 
himself  desires.  Nothing  shifts  its  place 
in  his  life  save  only  to  rise  with  him; 
and  he  knows  he  is  rising  when  he  finds 
himself  drawing  near  to  his  ancient  image 
of  good.  But  all  things  transform  them- 
selves more  freely  in  his  thoughts ;  and 
he  can  descend  with  impunity,  for  he  has 
the  presentiment  that  numbers  of  succes- 
sive valleys  will  lead  him  to  the  plateau 
that  he  expects.  And,  while  he  thus 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

seeks  for  conviction,  while  his  researches 
even  conduct  him  to  the  very  reverse  of 
that  which  he  loves,  he  directs  his  conduct 
by  the  most  humanly  beautiful  truth,  and 
clings  to  the  one  that  provisionally  seems 
to  be  highest.  All  that  may  add  to 
beneficent  virtue  enters  his  heart  at  once  ; 
ail  that  would  tend  to  lessen  it  remaining 
there  in  suspense,  like  insoluble  salts  that 
change  not  till  the  hour  for  decisive  ex- 
periment. He  may  accept  an  inferior 
truth,  but  before  he  will  act  in  accord- 
ance therewith  he  will  wait,  if  need  be  for 
centuries,  until  he  perceive  the  connection 
this  truth  must  possess  with  truths  so 
infinite  as  to  include  and  surpass  all 
others. 

In  a  word,  he  divides  the  moral  from 
the  intellectual  order,  admitting  in  the  for- 
mer that  only  which  is  greater  and  more 
beautiful  than  was  there  before.  And 
blameworthv  as  it  may  be  to  separate  the 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

two  orders  in  cases,  only  too  frequent  in 
life,  where  we  suffer  our  conduct  to  be  in- 
ferior to  our  thoughts,  where,  seeing  the 
good,  we  follow  the  worse  —  to  see  the 
worse  and  follow  the  better,  to  raise  our 
actions  high  over  our  idea,  must  ever  be 
reasonable  and  salutary ;  for  human  ex- 
perience renders  it  daily  more  clear  that 
the  highest  thought  we  can  attain  will  long 
be  inferior  still  to  the  mysterious  truth  we 
seek.  Moreover,  should  nothing  of  what 
goes  before  be  true,  a  reason  more  simple 
and  more  familiar  would  counsel  him  not 
yet  to  abandon  his  human  ideal.  For  the 
more  strength  he  accords  to  the  laws  which 
would  seem  to  set  egoism,  injustice,  and 
cruelty  as  examples  for  men  to  follow,  the 
more  strength  does  he  at  the  same  time 
confer  on  the  others  that  ordain  generosity, 
justice,  and  pity  ;  and  these  last  laws  are 
found  to  contain  something  as  profoundly 
natural  as  the  first,  the  moment  he  begins 

3M 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

to  equalise,  or  allot  -more  methodically, 
the  share  he  attributes  to  the  universe 
and  to  himself.  « 


Let  us  return  to  the  tragic  nuptials  of 
the  queen.  Here  it  is  evidently  nature's 
wish,  in  the  interests  of  crossed  fertilisa- 
tion, that  the  union  of  the  drone  and  the 
queen-bee  should  be  possible  only  in  the 
open  sky.  But  her  desires  blend  network- 
fashion,  and  her  most  valued  laws  have  to 
pass  through  the  meshes  of  other  laws, 
which,  in  their  turn,  the  moment  after,  are 
compelled  to  pass  through  the  first. 

In  the  sky  she  has  planted  so  many 
dangers  —  cold  winds,  storm-currents, 
birds,  insects,  drops  of  water,  all  of  which 
also  obey  invincible  laws  —  that  she  must 
of  necessity  arrange  for  this  union  to  be 
as  brief  as  possible.  It  is  so,  thanks  to 
the  startlingly  sudden  death  of  the  maje. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

One  embrace  suffices ;   the  rest  all  enacts 
itself  in  the  very  flanks  of  the  bride. 

She  descends  from  the  azure  heights 
and  returns  to  the  hive,  trailing  behind 
her,  like  an  oriflamme,  the  unfolded  entrails 
of  her  lover.  Some  writers  pretend  that 
the  bees  manifest  great  joy  at  this  return 
so  big  with  promise  —  Biichner,  among 
others,  giving  a  detailed  account  of  it.  I 
have  many  a  time  lain  in  wait  for  the 
queen-bee's  return,  and  I  confess  that  I 
have  never  noticed  any  unusual  emotion 
except  in  the  case  of  a  young  queen  who 
had  gone  forth  at  the  head  of  a  swarm, 
and  represented  the  unique  hope  of  a 
newly  founded  and  still  empty  city.  In 
that  instance  the  workers  were  all  wildly 
excited,  and  rushed  to  meet  her.  But  as 
a  rule  they  appear  to  forget  her,  even 
though  the  future  of  their  city  will  often  be 
no  less  imperilled.  They  act  with  con- 
sistent prudence  in  all  things,  till  the 
516 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

moment  when  they  authorise  the  massacre 
of  the  rival  queens.  That  point  reached, 
their  instinct  halts ;  and  there  is,  as  it 
were,  a  gap  in  their  foresight.  —  They 
Appear  to  be  wholly  indifferent.  They 
raise  their  heads ;  recognise,  probably,  the 
murderous  tokens  of  impregnation ;  but, 
still  mistrustful,  manifest  none  of  the  glad- 
ness our  expectation  had  pictured.  Being 
positive  in  their  ways,  and  slow  at  illusion, 
they  probably  need  further  proofs  before 
permitting  themselves  to  rejoice.  Why 
endeavour  to  render  too  logical,  or  too 
human,  the  feelings  of  little  creatures  so 
different  from  ourselves  ?  Neither  among 
the  bees  nor  among  any  other  animals 
that  have  a  ray  of  our  intellect,  do  things 
happen  with  the  precision  our  books  re- 
cord. Too  many  circumstances  remain 
unknown  to  us.  Why  try  to  depict  the 
bees  as  more  perfect  than  they  are,  by 
saying  that  which  is  not  ?  Those  who 
317 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

would  deem  them  more  interesting  did 
they  resemble  ourselves,  have  not  yet 
truly  realised  what  it  is  that  should  awaken 
the  interest  of  a  sincere  mind.  The  aim 
of  the  observer  is  not  to  surprise,  but  to 
comprehend;  and  to  point  out  the  gaps 
existing  in  an  intellect,  and  the  signs  of  a 
cerebral  organisation  different  from  our 
own,  is  more  curious  by  far  than  the  re- 
lating of  mere  marvels  concerning  it. 

But  this  indifference  is  not  shared  by 
all ;  and  when  the  breathless  queen  has 
reached  the  alighting-board,  some  groups 
will  form  and  accompany  her  into  the 
hive ;  where  the  sun,  hero  of  every  fes- 
tivity in  which  the  bees  take  part,  is  enter- 
ing with  little  timid  steps,  and  bathing  in 
azure  and  shadow  the  waxen  walls  and 
curtains  of  honey.  Nor  does  the  new 
bride,  indeed,  show  more  concern  than 
her  people,  there  being  not  room  for  many 
emotions  in  her  narrow,  barbarous,  prac- 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

tical  brain.  She  has  but  one  thought, 
which  is  to  rid  herself  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible of  the  embarrassing  souvenirs  her 
consort  has  left  her,  whereby  her  move- 
ments are  hampered.  She  seats  herself 
on  the  threshold,  and  carefully  strips  off 
the  useless  organs,  that  are  borne  far  away 
by  the  workers ;  for  the  male  has  given 
her  all  he  possessed,  and  much  more  than 
she  requires.  She  retains  only,  in  her 
spermatheca,  the  seminal  liquid  where 
millions  of  germs  are  floating,  which,  un- 
til her  last  day,  will  issue  one  by  one,  as 
the  eggs  pass  by,  and  in  the  obscurity  of 
her  body  accomplish  the  mysterious  union 
of  the  male  and  female  element,  whence 
the  worker-bees  are  born.  Through  a 
curious  inversion,  it  is  she  who  furnishes 
the  male  principle,  and  the  drone  who 
provides  the  female.  Two  days  after  the 
union  she  lays  hei-  first  eggs,  and  her 
people  immediately  surround  her  with  the 
319 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

most  particular  care.  From  that  moment, 
possessed  of  a  dual  sex,  having  within  her 
an  inexhaustible  male,  she  begins  her  veri- 
table life  ;  she  will  never  again  leave  the 
hive,  unless  to  accompany  a  swarm  ;  and 
her  fecundity  will  cease  only  at  the  ap- 
proach of  death. 


Prodigious  nuptials  these,  the  most 
fairylike  that  can  be  conceived,  azure  and 
tragic,  raised  high  above  life  by  the  im- 
petus of  desire  ;  imperishable  and  terrible, 
unique  and  bewildering,  solitary  and  infi- 
nite. An  admirable  ecstasy,  wherein 
death  supervening  in  all  that  our  sphere 
has  of  most  limpid  and  loveliest,  in  vir- 
ginal, limitless  space,  stamps  the  instant 
of  happiness  in  the  sublime  transparence 
of  the  great  sky;  purifying  in  that  im- 
maculate light  the  something  of  wretched- 
ness that  always  hovers  around  love, 
320 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

rendering  the  kiss  one  that  can  never  be 
forgotten;  and,  content  this  time  with 
moderate  tithe,  proceeding  herself,  with 
hands  that  are  almost  maternal,  to  intro- 
duce and  unite,  in  one  body,  for  a  long 
and  inseparable  future,  two  little  fragile 
lives. 

Profound  truth  has  not  this  poetry,  but 
possesses  another  that  we  are  less  apt  to 
grasp,  which,  however,  we  should  end, 
perhaps,  by  understanding  and  loving. 
Nature  has  not  gone  out  of  her  way  to 
provide  these  two  "abbreviated  atoms," 
as  Pascal  would  call  them,  with  a  resplen- 
dent marriage,  or  an  ideal  moment  of  love. 
Her  concern,  as  we  have  said,  was  merely 
to  improve  the  race  by  means  of  crossed 
fertilisation.  To  ensure  this  she  has  con- 
trived  the  organ  of  the  male  in  such  a 
fashion  that  he  can  make  use  of  it  only 
in  space.  A  prolonged  flight  must  first 
expand  his  two  great  tracheal  sacs  ;  these 
a»  321 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

enormous  receptacles  being  gorged  on  air 
will  throw  back  the  lower  part  of  the 
abdomen,  and  permit  the  exsertion  of  the 
organ.  There  we  have  the  whole  physio- 
logical secret  —  which  will  seem  ordinary 
enough  to  some,  and  almost  vulgar  to 
others — of  this  dazzling  pursuit  and  these 
magnificent  nuptials. 

[89] 

"  But  must  we  always,  then,"  the  poet 
will  wonder,  "  rejoice  in  regions  that  are 
loftier  than  the  truth  ?  " 

Yes,  in  all  things,  at  all  times,  let 
us  rejoice,  not  in  regions  loftier  than  the 
truth,  for  that  were  impossible,  but  in 
regions  higher  than  the  little  truths  that 
our  eye  can  seize.  Should  a  chance,  a 
recollection,  an  illusion,  a  passion,  —  in  a 
word,  should  any  motive  whatever  cause 
an  object  to  reveal  itself  to  us  in  a  more 
beautiful  light  than  to  others,  let  that 
322 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

motive  be  first  of  all  dear  to  us.  It  may 
only  be  error,  perhaps ;  but  this  error 
will  not  prevent  the  moment  wherein  this 
object  appears  the  most  admirable  to  us 
from  being  the  moment  wherein  we  are 
likeliest  to  perceive  its  real  beauty.  The 
beauty  we  lend  it  directs  our  attention  to 
its  veritable  beauty  and  grandeur,  which, 
derived  as  they  are  from  the  relation 
wherein  every  object  must  of  necessity 
stand  to  general,  eternal,  forces  and  laws, 
might  otherwise  escape  observation.  The 
faculty  of  admiring  which  an  illusion  may 
have  created  within  us  will  serve  for  the 
truth  that  must  come,  be  it  sooner  or 
later.  It  is  with  the  words,  the  feelings, 
and  ardour  created  by  ancient  and  imagi* 
nary  beauties,  that  humanity  welcomes  to- 
day truths  which  perhaps  would  have  never 
been  born,  which  might  not  have  been 
able  to  find  so  propitious  a  home,  had 
these  sacrificed  illusions  not  first  of  all 
323 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

dwelt  in,  and  kindled,  the  heart  and  the 
reason  whereinto  these  truths  should 
descend.  Happy  the  eyes  that  need  no 
illusion  to  see  that  the  spectacle  is  great! 
It  is  illusion  that  teaches  the  others  to 
look,  to  admire,  and  rejoice.  And  look 
as  high  as  they  will,  they  never  can  look 
too  high.  Truth  rises  as  they  draw 
nearer ;  they  draw  nearer  when  they  ad- 
mire. And  whatever  the  heights  may  be 
whereon  they  rejoice,  this  rejoicing  can 
never  take  place  in  the  void,  or  above 
the  unknown  and  eternal  truth  that  rests 
over  all  things  like  beauty  in  suspense. 

[90] 

Does  this  mean  that  we  should  attach 
ourselves  to  falsehood,  to  an  unreal  and 
factitious  poetry,  and  find  our  gladness 
therein  for  want  of  anything  better?  Or 
that  in  the  example  before  us — in  itself 
nothing,  but  we  dwell  on  it  because  it 
324 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

stands  for  a  thousand  others,  as  also  for 
our  entire  attitude  in  face  of  divers  orders 
of  truths  —  that  here  we  should  ignore 
the  physiological  explanation,  and  retain 
and  taste  only  the  emotions  of  this  nuptial 
flight,  which  is  yet,  and  whatever  the  cause, 
one  of  the  most  lyrical,  most  beautiful  acts 
of  that  suddenly  disinterested,  irresistible 
force  which  all  living  creatures  obey  and 
are  wont  to  call  love?  That  were  too 
childish  ;  nor  is  it  possible,  thanks  to  the 
excellent  habits  every  loyal  mind  has  to- 
day acquired. 

The  fact  being  incontestable,  we  must 
evidently  admit  that  the  exsertion  of  the 
organ  is  rendered  possible  only  by  the 
expansion  of  the  tracheal  vesicles.  But 
if  we,  content  with  this  fact,  did  not  let 
our  eyes  roam  beyond  it ;  if  we  deduced 
therefrom  that  every  thought  that  rises 
too  high  or  wanders  too  far  must  be  of 
necessity  wrong,  and  that  truth  must  be 
3*5 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

looked  for  only  in  the  material  details; 
if  we  did  not  seek,  no  matter  where,  in 
uncertainties  often  far  greater  than  the 
one  this  little  explanation  has  solved,  in 
the  strange  mystery  of  crossed  fertilisa- 
tion for  instance,  or  in  the  perpetuity  of 
the  race  and  life,  or  in  the  scheme  of 
nature ;  if  we  did  not  seek  in  these  for 
something  beyond  the  current  explana- 
tion, something  that  should  prolong  it, 
and  conduct  us  to  the  beauty  and  gran- 
deur that  repose  in  the  unknown,  I  would 
almost  venture  to  assert  that  we  should 
pass  our  existence  further  away  from  the 
truth  than  those,  even,  who  in  this  case 
wilfully  shut  their  eyes  to  all  save  the 
poetic  and  wholly  imaginary  interpreta- 
tion of  these  marvellous  nuptials.  They 
evidently  misjudge  the  form  and  colour 
of  the  truth,  but  they  live  in  its  atmo- 
sphere and  its  influence  far  more  than 
the  others,  who  complacently  believe  tha* 
326 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

the  entire  truth  lies  captive  within  their 
two  hands.  For  the  first  have  made 
ample  preparations  to  receive  the  truth, 
have  provided  most  hospitable  lodging 
within  them  ;  and  even  though  their  eyes 
may  not  see  it,  they  are  eagerly  looking 
towards  the  beauty  and  grandeur  where 
its  residence  surely  must  be. 

We  know  nothing  of  nature's  aim, 
which  for  us  is  the  truth  that  dominates 
every  other.  But  for  the  very  love  of 
this  truth,  and  to  preserve  in  our  soul  the 
ardour  we  need  for  its  search,  it  behoves 
us  to  deem  it  great.  And  if  we  should 
find  one  day  that  we  have  been  on  a 
wrong  road,  that  this  aim  is  incoherent 
and  petty,  we  shall  have  discovered  its 
pettiness  by  means  of  the  very  zeal  its 
presumed  grandeur  had  created  within  us ; 
and  this  pettiness  once  established,  it  will 
teach  us  what  we  have  to  do.  In  the  mean- 
while it  cannot  be  unwise  to  devote  to  its 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

search  the  most  strenuous,  daring  efforts 
of  our  heart  and  our  reason.  And  should 
the  last  word  of  all  this  be  wretched,  it  will 
be  no  little  achievement  to  have  laid  bare 
the  inanity  and  the  pettiness  of  the  aim 
of  nature. 

[91] 

"  There  is  no  truth  for  us  yet,"  a  great 
physiologist  of  our  day  remarked  to  me 
once,  as  I  walked  with  him  in  the 
country ;  "  there  is  no  truth  yet,  but 
there  are  everywhere  three  very  good 
semblances  of  truth.  Each  man  makes 
his  own  choice,  or  rather,  perhaps,  has  it 
thrust  upon  him  ;  and  this  choice,  whether 
it  be  thrust  upon  him,  or  whether,  as  is 
often  the  case,  he  have  made  it  without 
due  reflection,  this  choice,  to  which  he 
clings,  will  determine  the  form  and  the 
conduct  of  all  that  enters  within  him. 
The  friend  whom  we  meet,  the  woman 
328 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

who  approaches  and  smiles,  the  love  that 
unlocks  our  heart,  the  death  or  sorrow 
that  seals  it,  the  September  sky  above  us, 
this  superb  and  delightful  garden,  wherein 
we  see,  as  in  Corneille's  *  Psyche,'  bow- 
ers of  greenery  resting  on  gilded  statues, 
and  the  flocks  grazing  yonder,  with  their 
shepherd  asleep,  and  the  last  houses  of 
the  village,  and  the  sea  between  the  trees, 
—  all  these  are  raised  or  degraded  before 
they  enter  within  us,  are  adorned  or  de- 
spoiled, in  accordance  with  the  little  signal 
this  choice  of  ours  makes  to  them.  We 
must  learn  to  select  from  among  these 
semblances  of  truth.  I  have  spent  my 
own  life  in  eager  search  for  the  smaller 
truths,  the  physical  causes;  and  now,  at 
the  end  of  my  days,  I  begin  to  cherish, 
not  what  would  lead  me  from  these,  but 
what  would  precede  them,  and,  above  all, 
what  would  somewhat  surpass  them." 
We  had  attained  the  summit  of  a 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

plateau  in  the  "pays  de  Caux,"  in  Nor- 
mandy, which  is  supple  as  an  English 
park,  but  natural  and  limitless.  It  is  one 
of  the  rare  spots  on  the  globe  where 
nature  reveals  herself  to  us  unfailingly 
wholesome  and  green.  A  little  further  to 
the  north  the  country  is  threatened  with 
barrenness,  a  little  further  to  the  south,  it 
is  fatigued  and  scorched  by  the  sun.  At 
the  end  of  a  plain  that  ran  down  to  the 
edge  of  the  sea,  some  peasants  were  erect- 
ing a  stack  of  corn.  "  Look,"  he  said, 
"  seen  from  here,  they  are  beautiful. 
They  are  constructing  that  simple  and 
yet  so  important  thing,  which  is  above 
all  else  the  happy  and  almost  unvarying 
monument  of  human  life  taking  root  — 
a  stack  of  corn.  The  distance,  the  air  of 
the  evening,  weave  their  joyous  cries  into 
a  kind  of  song  without  words,  which  re- 
plies to  the  noble  song  of  the  leaves  as 
they  whisper  over  our  heads.  Above 
330 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

them  the  sky  is  magnificent;  and  one 
almost  might  fancy  that  beneficent  spirits, 
waving  palm-trees  of  fire,  had  swept  all 
the  light  towards  the  stack,  to  give  the 
workers  more  time.  And  the  track  of 
the  palms  still  remains  in  the  sky.  See 
the  humble  church  by  their  side,  over- 
looking and  watching  them,  in  the  midst 
of  the  rounded  lime  trees  and  the  grass  of 
the  homely  graveyard,  that  faces  its  native 
ocean.  They  are  fitly  erecting  their  mon- 
ument of  life  underneath  the  monuments 
of  their  dead,  who  made  the  same  gestures 
and  still  are  with  them.  Take  in  the 
whole  picture.  There  are  no  specialv 
characteristic  features,  such  as  we  find  in 
England,  Provence,  or  Holland.  It  is 
the  presentment,  large  and  ordinary 
enough  to  be  symbolic,  of  a  natural  and 
happy  life.  Observe  how  rhythmic 
human  existence  becomes  in  its  useful 
moments.  Look  at  the  man  who  is 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

leading  the  horses,  at  that  other  who 
throws  up  the  sheaves  on  his  fork,  at  the 
women  bending  over  the  corn,  and  the 
children  at  play.  .  .  .  They  have  not 
displaced  a  stone,  or  removed  a  spadeful 
of  earth,  to  add  to  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery  ;  nor  do  they  take  one  step,  plant 
a  tree  or  a  flower,  that  is  not  necessary. 
All  that  we  see  is  merely  the  involuntary 
result  of  the  effort  that  man  puts  forth  to 
subsist  for  a  moment  in  nature ;  and  yet 
those  among  us  whose  desire  is  only  to 
create  or  imagine  spectacles  of  peace, 
deep  thoughtfulness,  or  beatitude,  have 
been  able  to  find  no  scene  more  perfect 
than  this,  which  indeed  they  paint  or 
describe  whenever  they  seek  to  present 
us  with  a  picture  of  beauty  or  happiness. 
Here  we  have  the  first  semblance,  which 
some  will  call  the  truth." 


332 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

[92] 

"  Let  us  draw  nearer.  Can  you  distin- 
guish the  song  that  blended  so  well  with 
the  whispering  of  the  leaves?  It  is 
made  up  of  abuse  and  insult;  and  when 
laughter  bursts  forth,  it  is  due  to  an  ob- 
scene remark  some  man  or  woman  has 
made,  to  a  jest  at  the  expense  of  the 
weaker,  —  of  the  hunchback  unable  to  lift 
his  load,  the  cripple  they  have  knocked 
over,  or  the  idiot  whom  they  make  their 
butt. 

"  I  have  studied  these  people  for  many 
years.  We  are  in  Normandy ;  the  soil  is 
rich  and  easily  tilled.  Around  this  stack 
of  corn  there  is  rather  more  comfort  than 
one  would  usually  associate  with  a  scene 
of  this  kind.  The  result  is  that  most 
of  the  men,  and  many  of  the  women,  are 
alcoholic.  Another  poison  also,  which 
I  need  not  name,  corrodes  the  race.  To 
333 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

that,  to  the  alcohol,  are  due  the  childreiv 
whom  you  see  there :  the  dwarf,  the  one 
with  the  hare-lip,  the  others  who  are 
knock-kneed,  scrofulous,  imbecile.  All 
of  them,  men  and  women,  young  and  old, 
have  the  ordinary  vices  of  the  peasant. 
They  are  brutal,  suspicious,  grasping,  and 
envious ;  hypocrites,  liars,  and  slanderers  ; 
inclined  to  petty,  illicit  profits,  mean  in- 
terpretations, and  coarse  flattery  of  the 
stronger.  Necessity  brings  them  to- 
gether, and  compels  them  to  help  each 
other ;  but  the  secret  wish  of  every  indi- 
vidual is  to  harm  his  neighbour  as  soon 
as  this  can  be  done  without  danger  to 
himself.  The  one  substantial  pleasure  of 
the  village  is  procured  by  the  sorrows  of 
others.  Should  a  great  disaster  befall  one 
of  them,  it  will  long  be  the  subject  of 
secret,  delighted  comment  among  the  rest. 
Every  man  watches  his  fellow,  is  jealous 
of  him,  detests  and  despises  him.  While 
334 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

they  are  poor,  they  hate  their  masters 
with  a  boiling  and  pent-up  hatred  because 
of  the  harshness  and  avarice  these  last 
display ;  should  they  in  their  turn  have 
servants,  they  profit  by  their  own  experi- 
ence of  servitude  to  reveal  a  harshness  and 
avarice  greater  even  than  that  from  which 
they  have  suffered.  I  could  give  you 
minutest  details  of  the  meanness,  deceit, 
injustice,  tyranny,  and  malice  that  under- 
lie this  picture  of  ethereal,  peaceful  toil. 
Do  not  imagine  that  the  sight  of  this  mar- 
vellous sky,  of  the  sea  which  spreads  out 
yonder  behind  the  church  and  presents 
another,  more  sensitive  sky,  flowing  over 
the  earth  like  a  great  mirror  of  wisdom 
and  consciousness  —  do  not  imagine  that 
either  sea  or  sky  is  capable  of  lifting  their 
thoughts  or  widening  their  minds.  They 
have  never  looked  at  them.  Nothing  has 
power  to  influence  or  move  them  save 
three  or  four  circumscribed  fears,  that  of 
335 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

hunger,  of  force,  of  opinion  and  law,  and 
the  terror  of  hell  when  they  die.  To 
show  what  they  are,  we  should  have  to 
consider  them  one  by  one.  See  that  tall 
fellow  there  on  the  right,  who  flings  up 
such  mighty  sheaves.  Last  summer  his 
friends  broke  his  right  arm  in  some  tavern 
row.  I  reduced  the  fracture,  which  was  a 
bad  and  compound  one.  I  tended  him 
for  a  long  time,  and  gave  him  the  where- 
withal to  live  till  he  should  be  able  to  get 
back  to  work.  He  came  to  me  every 
day.  He  profited  by  this  to  spread  the 
report  in  the  village  that  he  had  discov- 
ered me  in  the  arms  of  my  sister-in-law, 
and  that  my  mother  drank.  He  is  not 
vicious,  he  bears  me  no  ill-will ;  on  the 
contrary,  see  what  a  broad,  open  smile 
spreads  over  his  face  as  he  sees  me.  It 
was  not  social  animosity  that  induced  him 
to  slander  me.  The  peasant  values  wealth 
far  too  much  to  hate  the  rich  man.  But 
336 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

I  fancy  my  good  corn-thrower  there  could 
not  understand  my  tending  him  without 
any  profit  to  myself.  He  was  satisfied 
that  there  must  be  some  underhand 
scheme,  and  he  declined  to  be  my  dupe. 
More  than  one  before  him,  richer  or 
poorer,  has  acted  in  similar  fashion,  if  not 
worse.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  he 
was  lying  when  he  spread  those  inventions 
abroad;  he  merely  obeyed  a  confused 
command  of  the  morality  he  saw  about 
him.  He  yielded  unconsciously,  against 
his  will,  as  it  were,  to  the  all-powerful  de- 
sire of  the  general  malevolence.  .  .  .  But 
why  complete  a  picture  with  which  all  are 
familiar  who  have  spent  some  years  in  the 
country  ?  Here  we  have  the  second  sem- 
blance that  some  will  call  the  real  truth. 
It  is  the  truth  of  practical  life.  It  un- 
doubtedly is  based  on  the  most  precise, 
the  only,  facts  that  one  can  observe  and 
test." 

22  337 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[93] 

M  Let  us  sit  on  these  sheaves,"  he  con- 
es nued,  "and  look  again.  Let  us  reject 
hot  a  single  one  of  the  little  facts  that 
t-uild  up  the  reality  of  which  I  have 
spoken.  Let  us  permit  them  to  depart 
of  their  own  accord  into  space.  They 
cumber  the  foreground,  and  yet  we  can- 
not but  be  aware  of  the  existence  behind 
them  of  a  great  and  very  curious  force 
that  sustains  the  whole.  Does  it  only 
sustain  and  not  raise?  These  men  whom 
we  see  before  us  are  at  least  no  longer 
the  ferocious  animals  of  whom  La 
Bruyere  speaks,  the  wretches  who  talked 
in  a  kind  of  inarticulate  voice,  and 
withdrew  at  night  to  their  dens,  where 
they  lived  on  black  bread,  water,  and 
roots. 

"  The  race,  you  will  tell  me,  is  neither 
as  strong  nor  as  healthy.  That  may  be*, 
338 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

alcohol  and  the  other  scourge  are  accidents 
that  humanity  has  to  surmount;  ordeals, 
it  may  be,  by  which  certain  of  our  organs, 
those  of  the  nerves,  for  instance,  may 
benefit;  for  we  invariably  find  that  life 
profits  by  the  ills  that  it  overcomes.  Be- 
sides, a  mere  trifle  that  we  may  discover 
to-morrow  may  render  these  poisons  in- 
nocuous. These  men  have  thoughts  and 
feelings  that  those  of  whom  La  Bruyere 
speaks  had  not."  "  I  prefer  the  simple, 
naked  animal  to  the  odious  half-animal," 
I  murmured.  "  You  are  thinking  of  the 
first  semblance  now,"  he  replied,  "  the 
semblance  dear  to  the  poet,  that  we  saw 
before ;  let  us  not  confuse  it  with  the 
one  we  are  now  considering.  These 
thoughts  and  feelings  are  petty,  if  you 
will,  and  vile;  but  what  is  petty  and 
vile  is  still  better  than  that  which  is 
not  at  all.  Of  these  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings they  avail  themselves  only  to  hurt 

339 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

each  other,  and  to  persist  in  their  pres- 
ent mediocrity;  but  thus  does  it  often 
happen  in  nature.  The  gifts  she  accords 
are  employed  for  evil  at  first,  for  the  ren- 
dering worse  what  she  had  apparently 
sought  to  improve ;  but,  from  this  evil,  a 
certain  good  will  always  result  in  the  end. 
Besides,  I  am  by  no  means  anxious  to 
prove  that  there  has  been  progress,  wnich 
may  be  a  very  small  thing  or  a  very  great 
thing,  according  to  the  place  whence  we 
regard  it.  It  is  a  vast  achievement,  the 
surest  ideal,  perhaps,  to  render  the  condi- 
tion of  men  a  little  less  servile,  a  little  less 
painful ;  but  let  the  mind  detach  itself  for 
an  instant  from  material  results,  and  the 
difference  between  the  man  who  marches 
in  the  van  of  progress  and  the  other 
who  is  blindly  dragged  at  its  tail  ceases 
to  be  very  considerable.  Among  these 
young  rustics,  whose  mind  is  haunted 
*nly  by  formless  ideas,  there  are  mam 
340 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

who  have  in  themselves  the  possibility  of 
attaining,  in  a  short  space  of  time,  the 
degree  of  consciousness  that  we  both  en- 
joy. One  is  often  struck  by  the  narrow- 
ness of  the  dividing  line  between  what  we 
regard  as  the  unconsciousness  of  these 
people  and  the  consciousness  that  to  us 
is  the  highest  of  all 

"  Besides,  of  what  is  this  consciousness 
composed,  whereof  we  are  so  proud  ?  Of 
far  more  shadow  than  light,  of  far  more 
acquired  ignorance  than  knowledge ;  of 
far  more  things  whose  comprehension,  we 
are  well  aware,  must  ever  elude  us,  than 
of  things  that  we  actually  know.  And 
yet  in  this  consciousness  lies  all  our  dig- 
nity, our  most  veritable  greatness;  it  is 
probably  the  most  surprising  phenomenon 
this  world  contains.  It  is  this  which  per* 
mits  us  to  raise  our  head  before  the  un- 
known principle,  and  say  to  it :  '  What 
you  are  I  know  not;  but  there  is  some- 

341 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

thing  within  me  that  already  enfolds  you 
You  will  destroy  me,  perhaps,  but  if  youf 
object  be  not  to  construct  from  my  ruins 
an  organism  better  than  mine,  you  will 
prove  yourself  inferior  to  what  I  am ;  and 
the  silence  that  will  follow  the  death  of 
the  race  to  which  I  belong  will  declare  ta 
you  that  you  have  been  judged.  AncS 
if  you  are  not  capable  even  of  caring 
whether  you  be  justly  judged  or  not,  of 
what  value  can  your  secret  be  ?  It  must 
be  stupid  or  hideous.  Chance  has  en- 
abled you  to  produce  a  creature  that  you 
yourself  lacked  the  quality  to  produce. 
It  is  fortunate  for  him  that  a  contrary 
chance  should  have  permitted  you  to 
suppress  him  before  he  had  fathomed 
the  depths  of  your  unconsciousness; 
more  fortunate  still  that  he  does  not 
survive  the  infinite  series  of  your  awful 
experiments.  He  had  nothing  to  do  ir 
a  world  where  his  intellect  corresponded 
342 


The  Nuptial  Flight 

to  no  eternal  intellect,  where  his  desire 
for  the  better  could  attain  no  actual 
good/ 

"  Once  more,  for  the  spectacle  to  absorb 
us,  there  is  no  need  of  progress.  The 
enigma  suffices;  and  that  enigma  is  as 
great,  and  shines  as  mysteriously,  in  the 
peasants  as  in  ourselves.  As  we  trace  life 
back  to  its  all-powerful  principle,  it  con- 
fronts us  on  every  side.  To  this  principle 
each  succeeding  century  has  given  a  new 
name.  Some  of  these  names  were  clear 
and  consoling.  It  was  found,  however, 
that  consolation  and  clearness  were  alike 
illusory.  But  whether  we  call  it  God, 
Providence,  Nature,  chance,  life,  fatality, 
spirit,  or  matter,  the  mystery  remains  un- 
altered ;  and  from  the  experience  of  thou- 
sands of  years  we  have  learned  nothing 
more  than  to  give  it  a  vaster  name,  one 
nearer  to  ourselves,  more  congruous  with 
our  expectation,  with  the  unforeseen. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

That  is  the  name  it  bears  to-day,  where- 
fore it  has  never  seemed  greater.  Here 
we  have  one  of  the  numberless  aspects 
of  the  third  semblance,  which  also  is 
truth." 


VII 

THE   MASSACRE   OF  THE 
MALES 


VII 

THE   MASSACRE   OF   THE 
MALES 

[94] 

IF  skies  remain  clear,  the  air  warm,  and 
pollen  and  nectar  abound  in  the 
flowers,  the  workers,  through  a  kind  of 
forgetful  indulgence,  or  over-scrupulous 
prudence  perhaps,  will  for  a  short  time 
longer  endure  the  importunate,  disastrous 
presence  of  the  males.  These  comport 
themselves  in  the  hive  as  did  Penelope's 
suitors  in  the  house  of  Ulysses.  Indeli- 
cate and  wasteful,  sleek  and  corpulent, 
fully  content  with  their  idle  existence  as 
honorary  lovers,  they  feast  and  carouse, 
throng  the  alleys,  obstruct  the  passages, 
and  hinder  the  work  ;  jostling  and  jos- 
347 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

tied,  fatuously  pompous,  swelled  with 
foolish,  good-natured  contempt ;  harbour- 
ing never  a  suspicion  of  the  deep  and 
calculating  scorn  wherewith  the  workers 
regard  them,  of  the  constantly  growing 
hatred  to  which  they  give  rise,  or  of  the 
destiny  that  awaits  them.  For  their 
pleasant  slumbers  they  select  the  snuggest 
corners  of  the  hive ;  then,  rising  carelessly, 
they  flock  to  the  open  cells  where  the 
honey  smells  sweetest,  and  soil  with  their 
excrements  the  combs  they  frequent.  The 
patient  workers,  their  eyes  steadily  fixed 
on  the  future,  will  silently  set  things 
right.  From  noon  till  three,  when  the 
purple  country  trembles  in  blissful  lassi- 
tude beneath  the  invincible  gaze  of  a 
July  or  August  sun,  the  drones  will  ap- 
pear on  the  threshold.  They  have  a 
helmet  made  of  enormous  black  pearls, 
two  lofty,  quivering  plumes,  a  doublet 
of  iridescent,  yellowish  velvet,  an  heroic 
348 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

tuft,  and  a  fourfold  mantle,  translucent 
and  rigid.  They  create  a  prodigious 
stir,  brush  the  sentry  aside,  overturn 
the  cleaners,  and  collide  with  the  for- 
agers as  these  return  laden  with  their 
humble  spoil.  They  have  the  busy 
air,  the  extravagant,  contemptuous  gait, 
of  indispensable  gods  who  should  be  sim- 
ultaneously venturing  towards  some  des- 
tiny unknown  to  the  vulgar.  One  by 
one  they  sail  off  into  space,  irresistible, 
glorious,  and  tranquilly  make  for  the 
nearest  flowers,  where  they  sleep  till  the 
afternoon  freshness  awake  them.  Then, 
with  the  same  majestic  pomp,  and  still 
overflowing  with  magnificent  schemes, 
they  return  to  the  hive,  go  straight  to 
the  cells,  plunge  their  head  to  the  neck 
in  the  vats  of  honey,  and  fill  themselves 
tight  as  a  drum  to  repair  their  exhausted 
strength  ;  whereupon,  with  heavy  steps, 
they  go  forth  to  meet  the  good,  dreamless 
349 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

and  careless  slumber  that  shall  fold  them 
in  its  embrace  till  the  time  for  the  next 
repast. 

[95] 

But  the  patience  of  the  bees  is  not 
equal  to  that  of  men.  One  morning 
the  long-expected  word  of  command  goes 
through  the  hive ;  and  the  peaceful  work- 
ers turn  into  judges  and  executioners. 
Whence  this  word  issues,  we  know  not ; 
it  would  seem  to  emanate  suddenly  from 
the  cold,  deliberate  indignation  of  the 
workers;  and  no  sooner  has  it  been  ut- 
tered than  every  heart  throbs  with  it, 
inspired  with  the  genius  of  the  unanimous 
republic.  One  part  of  the  people  re- 
nounce their  foraging  duties  to  devote 
themselves  to  the  work  of  justice.  The 
great  idle  drones,  asleep  in  unconscious 
groups  on  the  melliferous  walls,  are  rudely 
torn  from  their  slumbers  by  an  army 
33° 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

of  wrathful  virgins.  They  wake,  in 
pious  wonder;  they  cannot  believe  their 
eyes;  and  their  astonishment  struggles 
through  their  sloth  as  a  moonbeam 
through  marshy  water.  They  stare 
amazedly  round  them,  convinced  that 
they  must  be  victims  of  some  mistake  ; 
and  the  mother-idea  of  their  life  being 
first  to  assert  itself  in  their  dull  brain, 
they  take  a  step  towards  the  vats  of 
honey  to  seek  comfort  there.  But  ended 
for  them  are  the  days  of  May  honey,  the 
wine-flower  of  lime  trees  and  fragrant  am- 
brosia of  thyme  and  sage,  of  marjoram 
and  white  clover.  Where  the  path  once 
lay  open  to  the  kindly,  abundant  reser- 
voirs, that  so  invitingly  offered  their 
waxen  and  sugary  mouths,  there  stands 
now  a  burning-bush  all  alive  with  poi- 
sonous, bristling  stings.  The  atmosphere 
of  the  city  is  changed ;  in  lieu  of  the 
friendly  perfume  of  honey,  the  acrid  odour 
35' 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

of  poison  prevails ;  thousands  of  tiny 
drops  glisten  at  the  end  of  the  stings, 
and  diffuse  rancour  and  hatred.  Before 
the  bewildered  parasites  are  able  to  realise 
that  the  happy  laws  of  the  city  have  crum- 
bled, dragging  down  in  most  inconceivable 
fashion  their  own  plentiful  destiny,  each 
one  is  assailed  by  three  or  four  envoys 
of  justice  ;  and  these  vigorously  proceed 
to  cut  off  his  wings,  saw  through  the  peti- 
ole that  connects  the  abdomen  with  the 
thorax,  amputate  the  feverish  antennae, 
and  seek  an  opening  between  the  rings 
of  his  cuirass  through  which  to  pass  their 
sword.  No  defence  is  attempted  by  the 
enormous,  but  unarmed,  creatures  ;  they 
try  to  escape,  or  oppose  their  mere  bulk 
to  the  blows  that  rain  down  upon  them. 
Forced  on  to  their  back,  with  their  re- 
lentless enemies  clinging  doggedly  to 
them,  they  will  use  their  powerful  claws 
to  shift  them  from  side  to  side ;  or,  turn- 
352 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

ing  on  themselves,  they  will  drag  the 
whole  group  round  and  round  in  wild 
circles,  which  exhaustion  soon  brings  to 
an  end.  And,  in  a  very  brief  space,  their 
appearance  becomes  so  deplorable  that 
pity,  never  far  from  justice  in  the  depths 
of  our  heart,  quickly  returns,  and  would 
seek  forgiveness,  though  vainly,  of  the 
stern  workers  who  recognise  only  nature's 
harsh  and  profound  laws.  The  wings  of 
the  wretched  creatures  are  torn,  their 
antennge  bitten,  the  segments  of  their  legs 
wrenched  off;  and  their  magnificent  eyes, 
mirrors  once  of  the  exuberant  flowers, 
flashing  back  the  blue  light  and  the  inno- 
cent pride  of  summer,  now,  softened  by 
suffering,  reflect  only  the  anguish  and 
distress  of  their  end.  Some  succumb  to 
their  wounds,  and  are  at  once  borne  away 
to  distant  cemeteries  by  two  or  three  of 
their  executioners.  Others,  whose  injuries 
are  less,  succeed  in  sheltering  themselves 
23  353 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  some  corner,  where  they  lie,  all  huddled 
together,  surrounded  by  an  inexorable 
guard,  until  they  perish  of  want.  Many 
will  reach  the  door,  and  escape  into  space 
dragging  their  adversaries  with  them ; 
but,  towards  evening,  impelled  by  hunger 
and  cold,  they  return  in  crowds  to  the 
entrance  of  the  hive  to  beg  for  shelter. 
But  there  they  encounter  another  piti- 
less guard.  The  next  morning,  before 
setting  forth  on  their  journey,  the  work- 
ers will  clear  the  threshold,  strewn  with 
the  corpses  of  the  useless  giants ;  and 
all  recollection  of  the  idle  race  disappear 
till  the  following  spring. 

SSJ    [96]    :;'.!-':., 

In  very  many  colonies  of  the  apiary 
this  massacre  will  often  take  place  on  the 
same  day.  The  richest,  best-governed 
hive  will  give  the  signal ;  to  be  fol- 
lowed, some  days  after,  by  the  little 
354 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

and  less  prosperous  republics.  Only  the 
poorest,  weakest  colonies  —  those  whose 
mother  is  very  old  and  almost  sterile  — 
will  preserve  their  males  till  the  approach 
of  winter,  so  as  not  to  abandon  the  hope 
of  procuring  the  impregnation  of  the 
virgin  queen  they  await,  and  who  may 
yet  be  born.  Inevitable  misery  follows  ; 
and  all  the  tribe  —  mother,  parasites, 
workers  —  collect  in  a  hungry  and  closely 
intertwined  group,  who  perish  in  silence 
before  the  first  snows  arrive,  in  the  ob- 
scurity of  the  hive. 

In  the  wealthy  and  populous  cities- 
work  is  resumed  after  the  execution  of 
the  drones,  —  although  with  diminishing 
zeal,  for  flowers  are  becoming  scarce. 
The  great  festivals,  the  great  dramas,  are 
over.  The  autumn  honey,  however,  that 
shall  complete  the  indispensable  provp 
sions,  is  accumulating  within  the  hospi- 
table walls ;  and  the  last  reservoirs  are 
355 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

sealed  with  the  seal  of  white,  incorrupti- 
ble wax.  Building  ceases,  births  diminish, 
deaths  multiply  ;  the  nights  lengthen,  and 
days  grow  shorter.  Rain  and  inclement 
winds,  the  mists  of  the  morning,  the  am- 
bushes laid  by  a  hastening  twilight,  carry 
off  hundreds  of  workers  who  never  rej 
turn ;  and  soon,  over  the  whole  little 
people,  that  are  as  eager  for  sunshine  as 
the  grasshoppers  of  Attica,  there  hangs 
the  cold  menace  of  winter. 

Man  has  already  taken  his  share  of  the 
harvest.  Every  good  hive  has  presented 
him  with  eighty  or  a  hundred  pounds  of 
honey ;  the  most  remarkable  will  some- 
times even  give  two  hundred,  which  rep- 
resent an  enormous  expanse  of  liquefied 
light,  immense  fields  of  flowers  that 
have  been  visited  daily  one  or  two  thou- 
sand times.  He  throws  a  last  glance 
over  the  colonies,  which  are  becoming 
torpid.  From  the  richest  he  takes  their 
3S6 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

superfluous  wealth  to  distribute  it  among 
those  whom  misfortune,  unmerited  always 
in  this  laborious  world,  may  have  ren- 
dered necessitous.  He  covers  the  dwell- 
ings, half  closes  the  doors,  removes  the 
useless  frames,  and  leaves  the  bees  to 
their  long  winter  sleep.  They  gather 
in  the  centre  of  the  hive,  contract  them- 
selves, and  cling  to  the  combs  that  con- 
tain the  faithful  urns ;  whence  there  shall 
issue,  during  days  of  frost,  the  transmuted 
substance  of  summer.  The  queen  is  in 
the  midst  of  them,  surrounded  by  her 
guard.  The  first  row  of  the  workers 
attach  themselves  to  the  sealed  cells;  a 
second  row  cover  the  first,  a  third  tht 
second,  and  so  in  succession  to  the  last 
row  of  all,  which  form  the  envelope, 
When  the  bees  of  this  envelope  feel  the 
cold  stealing  over  them,  they  re-enter 
the  mass,  and  others  take  their  place. 
The  suspended  cluster  is  like  a  sombre 
357 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

sphere  that  the  walls  of  the  comb  di- 
vide ;  it  rises  imperceptibly  and  falls, 
it  advances  or  retires,  in  proportion  as 
the  cells  grow  empty  to  which  it  clings. 
For,  contrary  to  what  is  generally  believed, 
the  winter  life  of  the  bee  is  not  arrested, 
although  it  be  slackened.  By  the  con- 
certed beating  of  their  wings  —  little 
sisters  that  have  survived  the  flames  of 
the  sun — which  go  quickly  or  slowly 
in  accordance  as  the  temperature  without 
may  vary,  they  maintain  in  their  sphere 
an  unvarying  warmth,  equal  to  that  of 
a  day  in  spring.  This  secret  spring 
comes  from  the  beautiful  honey,  itself  but 
a  ray  of  heat  transformed,  that  returns 
now  to  its  first  condition.  It  circulates 
in  the  hive  like  generous  blood.  The 
bees  at  the  full  cells  present  it  to  their 
neighbours,  who  pass  it  on  in  their  turn. 
Thus  it  goes  from  hand  to  hand  and  from 
mouth  to  mouth,  till  it  attain  the  extrem- 

358 


The  Massacre  of  the  Males 

ity  of  the  group  in  whose  thousands  of 
hearts  one  destiny,  one  thought,  is  scat- 
tered and  united.  It  stands  in  lieu  of  the 
sun  and  the  flowers,  till  its  elder  brother, 
the  veritable  sun  of  the  real,  great  spring, 
peering  through  the  half-open  door,  glides 
in  his  first  softened  glances,  wherein 
anemones  and  violets  are  coming  to  life 
again;  and  gently  awakens  the  workers, 
showing  them  that  the  sky  once  more  is 
blue  in  the  world,  and  that  the  uninter- 
rupted circle  that  joins  death  to  life  has 
turned  and  begun  afresh. 


359 


VIII 

THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  RACE 


VIII 
THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  RACE 

[97] 

BEFORE  closing  this  book  —  as  we 
have  closed  the  hive  on  the  torpid 
silence  of  winter  —  I  am  anxious  to  meet 
the  objection  invariably  urged  by  those 
to  whom  we  reveal  the  astounding  indus- 
try and  policy  of  the  bees.  Yes,  they 
will  say,  that  is  all  very  wonderful ;  but 
then,  it  has  never  been  otherwise.  The 
bees  have  for  thousands  of 'years  dwelt 
under  remarkable  laws,  but  during  those 
thousands  of  years  the  laws  have  not 
varied.  For  thousands  of  years  they 
have  constructed  their  marvellous  combs, 
whereto  we  can  add  nothing,  wherefrom 
we  can  take  nothing,  —  combs  that  unite 
363 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  equal  perfection  the  science  of  the 
chemist,  the  geometrician,  the  architect, 
and  the  engineer ;  but  on  the  sarcophagi, 
on  Egyptian  stones  and  papyri,  we  find 
drawings  of  combs  that  are  identical  in 
every  particular.  Name  a  single  fact  that 
will  show  the  least  progress,  a  single  in- 
stance of  their  having  contrived  some 
new  feature  or  modified  their  habitual 
routine,  and  we  will  cheerfully  yield,  and 
admit  that  they  not  on^y  possess  an  ad- 
mirable instinct,  but  have  also  an  intellect 
worthy  to  approach  that  of  man,  worthy 
to  share  in  one  knows  not  what  higher 
destiny  than  awaits  unconscious  and  sub- 
missive matter. 

This  language  is  not  even  confined  to 
the  profane ;  it  is  made  use  of  by  ento- 
mologists of  the  rank  of  Kirby  and 
Spence,  in  order  to  deny  the  bees  the 
possession  of  intellect  other  than  may 
vaguely  stir  within  the  narrow  prison  of 
364 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

an  extraordinary  but  unchanging  instinct. 
"  Show  us,"  they  say,  "  a  single  case  where 
the  pressure  of  events  has  inspired  them 
with  the  idea,  for  instance,  of  substituting 
clay  or  mortar  for  wax  or  propolis  ;  show 
us  this,  and  we  will  admit  their  capacity 
for  reasoning." 

This  argument,  that  Romanes  refers  to 
as  the  "  question-begging  argument,"  and 
that  might  also  be  termed  the  "  insatiable 
argument,"  is  exceedingly  dangerous,  and, 
if  applied  to  man,  would  take  us  very  far. 
Examine  it  closely,  and  you  find  that  it 
emanates  from  the  "  mere  common- 
sense,"  which  is  often  so  harmful ;  the 
"  common-sense  "  that  replied  to  Galileo  : 
"  The  earth  does  not  turn,  for  I  can  see 
the  sun  move  in  the  sky,  rise  in  the 
morning  and  sink  in  the  evening ;  and 
nothing  can  prevail  over  the  testimony  of 
my  eyes."  Common-sense  makes  an 
admirable,  and  necessary,  background  for 
365 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

the  mind ;  but  unless  it  be  watched  by  a 
lofty  disquiet  ever  ready  to  remind  it, 
when  occasion  demand,  of  the  infinity  of 
its  ignorance,  it  dwindles  into  the  mere 
routine  of  the  baser  side  of  our  intellect. 
But  the  bees  have  themselves  answered 
the  objection  Messrs.  Kirby  and  Spence 
advanced.  Scarcely  had  it  been  formu- 
lated when  another  naturalist,  Andrew 
Knight,  having  covered  the  bark  of  some 
diseased  trees  with  a  kind  of  cement  made 
of  turpentine  and  wax,  discovered  that  his 
bees  were  entirely  renouncing  the  collec- 
tion of  propolis,  and  exclusively  using 
this  unknown  matter,  which  they  had 
quickly  tested  and  adopted,  and  found  in 
abundant  quantities,  ready  prepared,  in 
the  vicinity  of  their  dwelling. 

And  indeed,  one-half  of  the  science 
and  practice  of  apiculture  consists  in 
giving  free  rein  to  the  spirit  of  initiative 
by  the  bees,  and  in  providing 
366 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

their  enterprising  intellect  with  opportuni- 
ties for  veritable  discoveries  and  veritable 
inventions.  Thus,  for  instance,  to  aid  in 
the  rearing  of  the  larvae  and  nymphs,  the 
bee-keeper  will  scatter  a  certain  quantity 
of  flour  close  to  the  hive  when  the  pollen 
is  scarce  of  which  these  consume  an  enor- 
mous quantity.  In  a  state  of  nature,  in 
the  heart  of  their  native  forests  in  the 
Asiatic  valleys,  where  they  existed  prob- 
ably long  before  the  tertiary  epoch,  the 
bees  can  evidently  never  have  met  with 
a  substance  of  this  kind.  And  yet,  if 
care  be  taken  to  "  bait"  some  of  them 
with  it,  by  placing  them  on  the  flour, 
they  will  touch  it  and  test  it,  they  will 
perceive  that  its  properties  more  or  less 
resemble  those  possessed  by  the  dust  of 
the  anthers ;  they  will  spread  the  news 
among  their  sisters,  and  we  shall  soon 
find  every  forager  hastening  to  this  un- 
txpected,  incomprehensible  food,  which, 
367 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

in  their  hereditary  memory,  must  be  in- 
separable from  the  calyx  of  flowers  where 
their  flight,  for  so  many  centuries  past, 
has  been  sumptuously  and  voluptuously 
welcomed. 

[98] 

It  is  a  little  more  than  a  hundred  years 
ago  that  Huber's  researches  gave  the  first 
serious  impetus  to  our  study  of  the  bees, 
and  revealed  the  elementary  important 
truths  that  allowed  us  to  observe  them 
with  fruitful  result.  Barely  fifty  years 
have  passed  since  the  foundation  of  ra- 
tional, practical  apiculture  was  rendered 
possible  by  means  of  the  movable  combs 
and  frames  devised  by  Dzierzon  and 
Langstroth,  and  the  hive  ceased  to  be 
the  inviolable  abode  wherein  all  came  to 
pass  in  a  mystery  from  which  death  alone 
stripped  the  veil.  And  lastly,  less  than 
fifty  years  have  elapsed  since  the  improve* 
368 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

ments  of  the  microscope,  of  the  ento- 
mologist's laboratory,  revealed  the  precise 
secret  of  the  principal  organs  of  the 
workers,  of  the  mother,  and  the  males. 
Need  we  wonder  if  our  knowledge  be 
as  scanty  as  our  experience  ?  The  bees 
have  existed  many  thousands  of  years; 
we  have  watched  them  for  ten  or  twelve 
.lustres.  And  if  it  could  even  be  proved 
that  no  change  has  occurred  in  the  hive 
eince  we  first  opened  it,  should  we  have 
the  right  to  conclude  that  nothing  had 
changed  before  our  first  questioning 
glance?  Do  we  not  know  that  in  the 
evolution  of  species  a  century  is  but  as  a 
drop  of  rain  that  is  caught  in  the  whirl 
of  the  river,  and  that  millenaries  glide  as 
swiftly  over  the  life  of  universal  matter 
as  single  years  over  the  history  of  a 
people  ? 


369 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[99] 

But  there  is  no  warrant  for  the  state- 
ment that  the  habits  of  the  bees  are  un- 
changed. If  we  examine  them  with  an 
unbiassed  eye,  and  without  emerging 
from  the  small  area  lit  by  our  actual  ex- 
perience, we  shall,  on  the  contrary,  dis- 
cover marked  variations.  And  who  shall 
tell  how  many  escape  us  ?  Were  an  ob- 
server  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  times  our 
height  and  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  times  our  importance  (these 
being  the  relations  of  stature  and  weight 
in  which  we  stand  to  the  humble  honey- 
fly),  one  who  knew  not  our  language,  and 
was  endowed  with  senses  totally  different 
from  our  own  ;  were  such  an  one  to  have 
been  studying  us,  he  would  recognise 
certain  curious  material  transformations 
in  the  course  of  the  last  two  thirds  of 
the  century,  but  would  be  totally  un- 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

able  to  form  any  conception  of  our  moral, 
social,  political,  economic  or  religious 
evolution. 

The  most  likely  of  all  the  scientific 
hypotheses  will  presently  permit  us  to 
connect  our  domestic  bee  with  the  great 
tribe  of  the  "  Apiens,"  which  embraces 
all  wild  bees,  and  where  its  ancestors  are 
probably  to  be  found.  We  shall  then 
perceive  physiological,  social,  economic, 
industrial,  and  architectural  transforma- 
tions more  extraordinary  than  those  of 
our  human  evolution.  But  for  the  mo- 
ment we  will  limit  ourselves  to  our  dc^ 
mestic  bee  properly  so  called.  Of  these, 
sixteen  fairly  distinct  species  are  known; 
but,  essentially,  whether  we  consider  the 
Apis  Dorsata,  the  largest  known  to  us,  or 
the  Apis  Florea,  which  is  the  smallest, 
the  insect  is  always  exactly  the  same,  ex- 
cept for  the  slight  modifications  induced 
by  the  climate  and  by  the  conditions 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

whereto  it  has  had  to  conform.1  The 
difference  between  these  various  species 
is  scarcely  greater  than  that  between  an 
Englishman  and  a  Russian,  a  Japanese 
and  a  European.  In  these  preliminary 
remarks,  therefore,  we  will  confine  our' 
selves  to  what  actually  lies  within  the 
range  of  <*ur  eyes,  refusing  the  aid  of 
hypothesis,  be  this  never  so  probable  or 
so  imperious.  We  shall  mention  no  facts 

1  The  scientific  classification  of  the  domestic  bee  is 
as  follows : 

Class 1-nsecta 

Order Hymenoptera 

Family Apidae 

Genus Apis 

Species Mellifica 

The  term  "Mellifica"  is  that  of  the  Linnaean 
classification.  It  is  not  of  the  happiest,  for  all  the 
Apidae,  with  the  exception  of  certain  parasites  per- 
haps, are  producers  of  honey.  Scopoli  uses  the 
term  "  Cerifera  "  ;  Reaumur  "  Domestica  "  ;  Geof- 
froy  "Gregaria."  The  "Apis  Ligustica,"  the 
Italian  bee,  is  another  variety  of  the  "  Mellifica." 

372 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

that  are  not  susceptible  of  immediate 
proof;  and  of  such  facts  we  will  only 
rapidly  refer  to  some  of  the  more  sig- 
nificant. 

[too] 

Let  us  consider  first  of  all  the  most 
important  and  most  radical  improvement, 
one  that  in  the  case  of  man  would  have 
called  for  prodigious  labour :  the  external 
protection  of  the  community. 

The  bees  do  not,  like  ourselves,  dwell 
in  towns  free  to  the  sky,  and  exposed  to 
the  caprice  of  rain  and  storm,  but  in  cities 
entirely  covered  with  a  protecting  envel- 
ope. In  a  state  of  nature,  however,  in 
an  ideal  climate,  this  is  not  the  case.  If 
they  listened  only  to  their  essential  in- 
stinct, they  would  construct  their  combs 
in  the  open  air.  In  the  Indies,  the  Apis 
Dorsata  will  not  eagerly  seek  hollow  trees, 
or  a  hole  in  the  rocks.  The  swarm  will 
373 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

hang  from  the  crook  of  a  branch  ;  and  the 
comb  will  be  lengthened,  the  queen  lay 
her  eggs,  provisions  be  stored,  with  no 
shelter  other  than  that  which  the  work- 
ers' own  bodies  provide.  Our  Northern 
bees  have  at  times  been  known  to  revert 
to  this  instinct,  under  the  deceptive  influ- 
ence of  a  too  gentle  sky  ;  and  swarms  have 
been  found  living  in  the  heart  of  a  bush. 
But  even  in  the  Indies,  the  result  of 
this  habit,  which  would  seem  innate,  is 
by  no  means  favourable.  So  considerable 
a  number  of  the  workers  are  compelled  to 
remain  on  one  spot,  occupied  solely  with 
the  maintenance  of  the  heat  required  by 
those  who  are  moulding  the  wax  and  rear- 
ing the  brood,  that  the  Apis  Dorsata, 
hanging  thus  from  the  branches,  will  con- 
struct but  a  single  comb ;  whereas  if  she 
have  the  least  shelter  she  will  erect  four 
or  five,  or  more,  and  will  proportionately 
increase  the  prosperity  and  the  population 
374 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

of  the  colony.  And  indeed  we  find  that 
all  species  of  bees  existing  in  cold  and  tem- 
perate regions  have  abandoned  this  primi- 
tive method.  The  intelligent  initiative 
of  the  insect  has  evidently  received  the 
sanction  of  natural  selection,  which  has 
allowed  only  the  most  numerous  and  best 
protected  tribes  to  survive  our  winters. 
What  had  been  merely  an  idea,  therefore, 
and  opposed  to  instinct,  has  thus  by  slow 
degrees  become  an  instinctive  habit.  But 
it  is  none  the  less  true  that  in  forsaking 
the  vast  light  of  nature  that  was  so  dear 
to  them  and  seeking  shelter  in  the  ob- 
scure hollow  of  a  tree  or  a  cavern,  the 
bees  have  followed  what  at  first  was  an 
audacious  idea,  based  on  observation, 
probably,  on  experience  and  reasoning. 
And  this  idea  might  be  almost  declared 
to  have  been  as  important  to  the  destinies 
of  the  domestic  bee  as  was  the  invention 
of  fire  to  the  destinies  of  man. 
375 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

[101] 

This  great  progress,  not  the  less  actual 
for  being  hereditary  and  ancient,  was  fol- 
lowed by  an  infinite  variety  of  details 
which  prove  that  the  industry,  and  even 
the  policy,  of  the  hive  have  not  crystal- 
lised into  infrangible  formulae.  We  have 
already  mentioned  the  intelligent  substi- 
tution of  flour  for  pollen,  and  of  an  arti- 
ficial cement  for  propolis.  We  have  seen 
with  what  skill  the  bees  are  able  to  adapt 
to  their  needs  the  occasionally  discon- 
certing dwellings  into  which  they  are  in- 
troduced, and  the  surprising  adroitness 
wherewith  they  turn  combs  of  foundation- 
wax  to  good  account.  They  display  ex- 
traordinary ingenuity  in  their  manner  of 
handling  these  marvellous  combs,  which 
are  so  strangely  useful,  and  yet  incomplete. 
In  point  of  fact,  they  meet  man  half-way. 
Let  us  imagine  that  we  had  for  centuries: 
376 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

past  been  erecting  cities,  not  with  stones, 
bricks,  and  lime,  but  with  some  pliable 
substance  painfully  secreted  by  special 
organs  of  our  body.  One  day  an  all- 
powerful  being  places  us  in  the  midst  of 
a  fabulous  city.  We  recognise  that  it  is 
made  of  a  substance  similar  to  the  one 
that  we  secrete,  but,  as  regards  the  rest,  it 
is  a  dream,  whereof  what  is  logical  is  so 
distorted,  so  reduced,  and  as  it  were  con- 
centrated, as  to  be  more  disconcerting 
almost  than  had  it  been  incoherent.  Our 
habitual  plan  is  there ;  in  fact,  we  find 
everything  that  we  had  expected ;  but  all 
has  been  put  together  by  some  antecedent 
force  that  would  seem  to  have  crushed  it, 
arrested  it  in  the  mould,  and  to  have 
hindered  its  completion.  The  houses 
whose  height  must  attain  some  four  oi 
five  yards  are  the  merest  protuberances, 
that  our  two  hands  can  cover.  Thousands 
of  walls  are  indicated  by  signs  that  hint 

377 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

at  once  of  their  plan  and  material.  Else- 
where there  are  marked  deviations,  which 
must  be  corrected ;  gaps  to  be  filled  and 
harmoniously  joined  to  the  rest,  vast 
surfaces  that  are  unstable  and  will  need 
support.  The  enterprise  is  hopeful,  but 
full  of  hardship  and  danger.  It  would 
seem  to  have  been  conceived  by  some 
sovereign  intelligence,  that  was  able  to 
divine  most  of  our  desires,  but  has  ex- 
ecuted them  clumsily,  being  hampered  by 
its  very  vastness.  We  must  disentangle, 
therefore,  what  now  is  obscure,  we  must 
develop  the  least  intentions  of  the  super- 
natural donor;  we  must  build  in  a  few 
days  what  would  ordinarily  take  us  years ; 
we  must  renounce  organic  habits,  and 
fundamentally  alter  our  methods  of  labour. 
It  is  certain  that  all  the  attention  man 
could  devote  would  not  be  excessive  for 
the  solution  of  the  problems  that  would 
arise,  or  for  the  turning  to  fullest  account 
378 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

the  help  thus  offered  by  a  magnificent 
providence.  Yet  that  is,  more  or  less, 
what  the  bees  are  doing  in  our  modern 
hives.1 


I  have  said  that  even  the  policy  of  the 
bees  is  probably  subject  to  change.  This 
point  is  the  obscurest  of  all,  and  the  most 
difficult  to  verify.  I  shall  not  dwell  on 
their  various  methods  of  treating  the 
queens,  or  the  laws  as  to  swarming  that 
are  peculiar  to  the  inhabitants  of  every 
hive,  and  apparently  transmitted  from 
generation  to  generation,  etc.  ;  but  by 
the  side  of  these  facts  which  are  not  suffi- 

1  As  we  are  now  concerned  with  the  construction  of 
the  bee,  we  may  note,  in  passing,  a  strange  peculiarity 
of  the  Apis  Florea.  Certain  walls  of  its  cells  for  males 
are  cylindrical  instead  of  hexagonal.  Apparently  she 
has  not  yet  succeeded  in  passing  from  one  form  to  thft 
other,  and  indefinitely  adopting  the  better. 

379 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ciently  established  are  others  so  precise 
and  unvarying  as  to  prove  that  the  same 
degree  of  political  civilisation  has  not 
been  attained  by  all  races  of  the  domestic 
bee,  and  that,  among  some  of  them,  the 
public  spirit  still  is  groping  its  way,  seek- 
ing perhaps  another  solution  of  the 
royal  problem.  The  Syrian  bee,  for 
instance,  habitually  rears  120  queens  and 
often  more,  whereas  our  Apis  Mellifica 
will  rear  ten  or  twelve  at  most.  Cheshire 
tells  of  a  Syrian  hive,  in  no  way  abnormal, 
where  120  dead  queen-mothers  were 
found,  and  90  living,  unmolested  queens. 
This  may  be  the  point  of  departure,  or 
the  point  of  arrival,  of  a  strange  social 
evolution,  which  it  would  be  interesting 
to  study  more  thoroughly.  We  may  add 
that  as  far  as  the  rearing  of  queens  is  con- 
cerned, the  Cyprian  bee  approximates  to 
the  Syrian.  And  finally,  there  is  yet 
another  fact  which  establishes  still  more 
380 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

clearly  that  the  customs  and  prudent  or- 
ganisation of  the  hive  are  not  the  results 
of  a  primitive  impulse,  mechanically  fol* 
lowed  through  different  ages  and  climates, 
but  that  the  spirit  which  governs  the  little 
republic  is  fully  as  capable  of  taking  note 
of  new  conditions  and  turning  these  to 
the  best  advantage,  as  in  times  long  past  it 
was  capable  of  meeting  the  dangers  that 
hemmed  it  around.  Transport  our  black 
bee  to  California  or  Australia,  and  her 
habits  will  completely  alter.  Finding  that 
summer  is  perpetual  and  flowers  forever 
abundant,  she  will  after  one  or  two  years 
be  content  to  live  from  day  to  day,  and 
gather  sufficient  honey  and  pollen  for  the 
day's  consumption;  and,  her  thoughtful 
observation  of  these  new  features  triumph- 
ing over  hereditary  experience,  she  will 
cease  to  make  provision  for  the  winter.1 

1  Biichner  cites  an  analogous  fact.     In  the  Barbadoes, 
the  bees  whose  hives  are  in  the  midst  of  the  refineries, 

a* 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

In  fact  it  becomes  necessary,  in  order  to 
stimulate  her  activity,  to  deprive  her 
systematically  of  the  fruits  of  her  labour. 

[•03] 

So  much  for  what  our  own  eyes  can 
lee.  It  will  be  admitted  that  we  have 
mentioned  some  curious  facts,  which  by 
no  means  support  the  theory  that  every 
intelligence  is  arrested,  every  future  clear- 
ly defined,  save  only  the  intelligence  and 
future  of  man. 

But  if  we  choose  to  accept  for  one  mo- 
ment the  hypothesis  of  evolution,  the 
spectacle  widens,  and  its  uncertain,  gran- 
diose light  soon  attains  our  own  destinies. 
Whoever  brings  careful  attention  to  bear 
will  scarcely  deny,  even  though  it  be  not 
evident,  the  presence  in  nature  of  a  will 
that  tends  to  raise  a  portion  of  matter  to 

where  they  find  sugar  in  abundance  during  the  whole 

year,  will  entirely  abandon  their  visits  to  the  flowers. 

382 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

a  subtler  and  perhaps  better  condition, 
and  to  penetrate  its  substance  little  by 
little  with  a  mystery-laden  fluid  that  we  at 
first  term  life,  then  instinct,  and  finally 
intelligence;  a  will  that,  for  an  end  we 
know  not,  organises,  strengthens,  and  fa- 
cilitates the  existence  of  all  that  is.  There 
can  be  no  certainty,  and  yet  many  in- 
stances invite  us  to  believe  that,  were  an 
actual  estimate  possible,  the  quantity  of 
matter  that  has  raised  itself  from  its  begin- 
nings would  be  found  to  be  ever  increas- 
ing. A  fragile  remark,  I  admit,  but  the 
only  one  we  can  make  on  the  hidden  force 
that  leads  us ;  and  it  stands  for  much  in  a 
world  where  confidence  in  life,  until  certi- 
tude to  the  contrary  reach  us,  must  remain 
the  first  of  all  our  duties,  at  times  even 
when  life  itself  conveys  no  encouraging 
clearness  to  us. 

I  know  all  that  may  be  urged  against 
the  theory  of  evolution.     In  its  favoui 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

i»re  numerous  proofs  and  most  powerful 
arguments,  which  yet  do  not  carry  irre- 
sistible conviction.  We  must  beware  of 
abandoning  ourselves  unreservedly  to  the 
prevailing  truths  of  our  time.  A  hundred 
years  hence,  many  chapters  of  a  book 
instinct  to-day  with  this  truth,  will  appear 
as  ancient  as  the  philosophical  writings  of 
the  eighteenth  century  seem  to  us  now, 
full  as  they  are  of  a  too  perfect  and  non- 
existing  man,  or  as  so  many  works  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  whose  value  is  less- 
ened by  their  conception  of  a  harsh  and 
narrow  god. 

Nevertheless,  when  it  is  impossible  to 
know  what  the  truth  of  a  thing  may  be, 
it  is  well  to  accept  the  hypothesis  that 
appeals  the  most  urgently  to  the  reason 
of  men  at  the  period  when  we  happen  to 
have  come  into  the  world.  The  chances 
are  that  it  will  be  false ;  but  so  long  as 
we  believe  it  to  be  true  it  will  serve  a  use- 
184 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

fill  purpose  by  restoring  our  courage  and 
stimulating  research  in  a  new  direction. 
It  might  at  the  first  glance  seem  wiser, 
perhaps,  instead  of  advancing  these  in- 
genious suppositions,  simply  to  say  the 
profound  truth,  which  is  that  we  do  not 
know.  But  this  truth  could  only  be  help- 
ful were  it  written  that  we  never  shall 
know.  In  the  meanwhile  it  would  induce 
a  state  of  stagnation  within  us  more  per- 
nicious than  the  most  vexatious  illusions. 
We  are  so  constituted  that  nothing  takes 
us  further  or  leads  us  higher  than  the 
leaps  made  by  our  errors.  In  point  of 
fact  we  owe  the  little  we  have  learned  to 
hypotheses  that  were  always  hazardous 
and  often  absurd,  and,  as  a  general  rule, 
less  discreet  than  they  are  to-day.  They 
were  unwise,  perhaps,  but  they  kept  alive 
the  ardour  for  research.  To  the  traveller, 
shivering  with  cold,  who  reaches  the  hu- 
man Hostelry,  it  matters  little  whether  h« 
25  385 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

by  whose  side  he  seats  himself,  he  who 
has  guarded  the  hearth,  be  blind  or  very 
old.  So  long  as  the  fire  still  burn  that  he 
has  been  watching,  he  has  done  as  much 
as  the  best  could  have  done.  Well  for 
us  if  we  can  transmit  this  ardour,  not  as 
we  received  it,  but  added  to  by  ourselves ; 
and  nothing  will  add  to  it  more  than  this 
hypothesis  of  evolution,  which  goads  us  to 
question  with  an  ever  severer  method  and 
ever  increasing  zeal  all  that  exists  on  the 
earth's  surface  and  in  its  entrails,  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea  and  expanse  of  the  sky. 
Reject  it,  and  what  can  we  set  up  against  it, 
what  can  we  put  in  its  place  ?  There  is 
but  the  grand  confession  of  scientific  igno- 
rance, aware  of  its  knowing  nothing  —  but 
this  is  habitually  sluggish,  and  calculated 
to  discourage  the  curiosity  more  needful 
to  man  than  wisdom  —  or  the  hypothesis 
of  the  fixity  of  the  species  and  of  divine 
creation,  which  is  less  demonstrable  than 
386- 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

the  other,  banishes  for  all  time  the  living 
elements  of  the  problem,  and  explains 
nothing. 

[  I04] 

Of  wild  bees  approximately  4500  vari- 
eties are  known.  It  need  scarcely  be  said 
that  we  shall  not  go  through  the  list. 
Some  day,  perhaps,  a  profound  study, 
and  searching  experiments  and  observa- 
tions of  a  kind  hitherto  unknown,  that 
would  demand  more  than  one  lifetime, 
will  throw  a  decisive  light  upon  the  his- 
tory of  the  bee's  evolution.  All  that 
we  can  do  now  is  to  enter  this  veiled  re^ 
gion  of  supposition,  and,  discarding  all  posi- 
tive statement,  attempt  to  follow  a  tribe 
of  hymenoptera  in  their  progress  towards 
a  more  intelligent  existence,  towards  a  little 
more  security  and  comfort,  lightly  indi- 
cating the  salient  features  of  this  ascen- 
sion that  is  spread  over  many  thousands 
387 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

of  years.  The  tribe  in  question  is  already 
known  to  us  ;  it  is  that  of  the  "  Apiens," 
whose  essential  characteristics  are  so  dis- 
tinct and  well-marked  that  one  is  inclined 
to  credit  all  its  members  with  one  common 
ancestor.1 

The  disciples  of  Darwin,  Hermann 
Miiller  among  others,  consider  a  little 
wild  bee,  the  Prosopis,  which  is  to  be 
found  all  over  the  universe,  as  the  actual 
representative  of  the  primitive  bee  whence 
all  have  issued  that  are  known  to  us 
to-day. 

The  unfortunate  Prosopis  stands  more 

1  It  is  important  that  the  terms  we  shall  succes- 
sively employ,  adopting  the  classification  of  M.  Emile 
Blanchard,  —  "  APIENS,  APID^E  and  APIT^E,  — 
should  not  be  confounded.  The  tribe  of  the  Apiens 
comprises  all  families  of  bees.  The  Apidas  constitute 
the  first  of  these  families,  and  are  subdivided  into  three 
groups  :  the  Meliponae,  the  Apitas,  and  the  Bombi 
(humble-bees).  And,  finally,  *he  Apitae  include  all 
the  different  varieties  of  our  domestic  bees. 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

ot  less  in  the  same  relation  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  our  hives  as  the  cave-dwellers  to 
the  fortunate  who  live  in  our  great  cities. 
You  will  probably  more  than  once  have 
seen  her  fluttering  about  the  bushes,  in 
a  deserted  corner  of  your  garden,  without 
realising  that  you  were  carelessly  watching 
the  venerable  ancestor  to  whom  we  prob- 
ably owe  most  of  our  flowers  and  fruits 
(for  it  is  actually  estimated  that  more  than 
a  hundred  thousand  varieties  of  plants 
would  disappear  if  the  bees  did  not  visit 
them)  and  possibly  even  our  civilisation, 
for  in  these  mysteries  all  things  inter- 
twine. She  is  nimble  and  attractive,  the 
variety  most  common  in  France  being 
elegantly  marked  with  white  on  a  black 
background.  But  this  elegance  hides  an 
inconceivable  poverty.  She  leads  a  life 
of  starvation.  She  is  almost  naked, 
whereas  her  sisters  are  clad  in  a  warm 
and  sumptuous  fleece.  She  has  not,  like 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

«he  Apidae,  baskets  to  gather  the  pollen, 
nor,  in  their  default,  the  tuft  of  the 
Andrenae,  nor  the  ventral  brush  of  the 
Gastrilegidae.  Her  tiny  claws  must  labor- 
iously gather  the  powder  from  the  calices, 
which  powder  she  needs  must  swallow 
in  order  to  take  it  back  to  her  lair.  She 
has  no  implements  other  than  her  tongue, 
her  mouth  and  her  claws ;  but  her  tongue 
is  too  short,  her  legs  are  feeble,  and  her 
mandibles  without  strength.  Unable  to 
produce  wax,  bore  holes  through  wood, 
or  dig  in  the  earth,  she  contrives  clumsy 
galleries  in  the  tender  pith  of  dry  berries ; 
erects  a  few  awkward  cells,  stores  these 
with  a  little  food  for  the  offspring  she 
never  will  see ;  and  then,  having  accom- 
plished this  poor  task  of  hers,  that  tends 
she  knows  not  whither  and  of  whose  aim 
we  are  no  less  ignorant,  she  goes  off  and 
dies  in  a  corner,  as  solitarily  as  she  had 
lived. 

39° 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 


We  shall  pass  over  many  intermediary 
species,  wherein  we  may  see  the  gradual 
lengthening  of  the  tongue,  enabling  more 
nectar  to  be  extracted  from  the  cups  of 
corollas,  and  the  dawning  formation  and 
subsequent  devtlopment  of  the  appara- 
tus for  collecting  pollen,  —  hairs,  tufts, 
brushes  on  the  tibia,  on  the  tarsus,  and 
abdomen,  —  as  also  claws  and  mandibles 
becoming  stronger,  useful  secretions  being 
formed,  and  the  genius  that  presides  over 
the  construction  of  dwellings  seeking 
and  finding  extraordinary  improvement 
in  every  direction.  Such  a  study  would 
need  a  whole  volume.  I  will  merely 
outline  a  chapter  of  it,  less  than  a  chapter, 
a  page,  which  shall  show  how  the  hesitat- 
ing endeavours  of  the  will  to  live  and  be 
happier  result  in  the  birth,  development, 
and  affirmation  of  social  intelligence. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

We  have  seen  the  unfortunate  Prosopis 
silently  bearing  her  solitary  little  destiny 
in  the  midst  of  this  vast  universe  charged 
with  terrible  forces.  A  certain  number 
of  her  sisters,  belonging  to  species  already 
more  skilful  and  better  supplied  with 
utensils,  such  as  the  well-clad  Colletes, 
or  the  marvellous  cutter  of  rose-leaves, 
the  Megachile  Centuncularis,  live  in 
an  isolation  no  less  profound ;  and  if 
by  chance  some  creature  attach  itself  to 
them,  and  share  their  dwelling,  it  will 
either  be  an  enemy,  or,  more  often,  a 
parasite. 

For  the  world  of  bees  is  peopled  with 
phantoms  stranger  than  our  own ;  and 
many  a  species  will  thus  have  a  kind  of 
mysterious  and  inactive  double,  exactly 
similar  to  the  victim  it  has  selected,  save 
only  that  its  immemorial  idleness  has 
caused  it  to  lose  one  by  one  its  imple- 
ments of  labour,  and  that  it  exists  solely 
393 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

at  the  expense  of  the  working   type  of 
its  race.1 

Among  the  bees,  however,  which  are 
somewhat  too  arbitrarily  termed  the  "  sol- 
itary Apidae,"  the  social  instinct  already 
is  smouldering,  like  a  flame  crushed  be- 
neath the  overwhelming  weight  of  matter 
that  stifles  all  primitive  life.  And  here 
and  there,  in  unexpected  directions,  as 
though  reconnoitring,  with  timid  and 
sometimes  fantastic  outbursts,  it  will 
succeed  in  piercing  the  mass  that  op- 

1  The  humble-bees,  for  instance,  have  the  Psithyri 
as  parasites,  while  the  Stelites  live  on  the  Anthidia. 
"  As  regards  the  frequent  identity  of  the  parasite  with 
its  victim,"  M.  J.  Perez  very  justly  remarks  in  his  book 
"The  Bees,"  "one  must  necessarily  admit  that  the 
two  genera  are  only  different  forms  of  the  same  type, 
and  are  united  to  each  other  by  the  closest  affinity.  And 
to  naturalists  who  believe  in  the  theory  of  evolution 
this  relationship  is  not  purely  ideal,  but  real.  The 
parasitic  genus  must  be  regarded  as  merely  a  branch 
of  the  foraging  genus,  having  lost  its  foraging  organs 
because  of  its  adaptation  to  parasitic  life." 

393 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

presses  it,  the  pyre  that  some  day  shall 
feed  its  triumph. 

If  in  this  world  all  things  be  matter, 
this  is  surely  its  most  immaterial  move- 
ment. Transition  is  called  for  from  a 
precarious,  egotistic  and  incomplete  life 
to  a  life  that  shall  be  fraternal,  a  little 
more  certain,  a  little  more  happy.  The 
spirit  must  ideally  unite  that  which  in  the 
body  is  actually  separate ;  the  individual 
must  sacrifice  himself  for  the  race,  and 
substitute  for  visible  things  the  things 
that  cannot  be  seen.  Need  we  wonder 
that  the  bees  do  not  at  the  first  glance 
realise  what  we  have  not  yet  disentangled, 
we  who  find  ourselves  at  the  privileged 
spot  whence  instinct  radiates  from  all 
sides  into  our  consciousness  ?  And  it  is 
curious  too,  almost  touching,  to  see  how 
the  new  idea  gropes  its  way,  at  first,  in 
the  darkness  that  enfolds  all  things  that 
come  to  life  on  this  earth.  It  emerges 
394 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

from  matter,  it  is  still  quite  material.  It 
is  cold,  hunger,  fear,  transformed  into 
something  that  as  yet  has  no  shape.  It 
crawls  vaguely  around  great  dangers, 
around  the  long  nights,  the  approach 
of  winter,  of  an  equivocal  sleep  which 
almost  is  death.  .  .  . 

[,06] 

The  Xylocopae  are  powerful  bees  which 
worm  their  nest  in  dry  wood.  Their  life 
is  solitary  always.  Towards  the  end  of 
summer,  however,  some  individuals  of  a 
particular  species,  the  Xylocopa  Cyanes- 
cens,  may  be  found  huddled  together  in  a 
shivering  group,  on  a  stalk  of  asphodel, 
to  spend  the  winter  in  common.  Among 
the  Xylocopae  this  tardy  fraternity  is  ex- 
ceptional, but  among  the  Ceratinae,  which 
are  of  their  nearest  kindred,  it  has  become 
a  constant  habit.  The  idea  is  germinat- 
ing. It  halts  immediately  ;  and  hitherto 
395 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

has  not  succeeded,  among  the  Xylo- 
copae,  in  passing  beyond  this  first  obscure 
line  of  love. 

Among  other  Apiens,  this  groping  idea 
assumes  other  forms.  The  Chalicodomae 
of  the  out-houses,  which  are  building- 
bees,  the  Dasypodae  and  Halicti,  which 
dig  holes  in  the  earth,  unite  in  large 
colonies  to  construct  their  nests.  But  it 
is  an  illusory  crowd  composed  of  solitary 
units,  that  possess  no  mutual  understand- 
ing, and  do  not  act  in  common.  Each 
one  is  profoundly  isolated  in  the  midst 
of  the  multitude,  and  builds  a  dwelling 
for  itself  alone,  heedless  of  its  neighbour. 
"They  are,"  M.  Perez  remarks,  "a  mere 
congregation  of  individuals,  brought  to- 
gether by  similar  tastes  and  habits,  but 
observing  scrupulously  the  maxim  of  each 
one  for  itself;  in  fact,  a  mere  mob  of 
workers,  resembling  the  swarm  of  a  hive 
only  as  regards  their  number  and  zeal. 
396 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

Such  assemblies  merely  result  from  t 
great  number  of  individuals  inhabiting  the 
same  locality." 

But  when  we  come  to  the  Panurgi, 
which  are  cousins  of  the  Dasypodae,  a 
little  ray  of  light  suddenly  reveals  the 
birth  of  a  new  sentiment  in  this  fortui- 
tous crowd.  They  collect  in  the  same 
way  as  the  others,  and  each  one  digs  its 
own  subterranean  chambers ;  but  the  en- 
trance is  common  to  all,  as  also  the  gal- 
lery which  leads  from  the  surface  of  the 
ground  to  the  different  cells.  "  And  thus," 
M.  Perez  adds,  "as  far  as  the  work  of 
the  cells  is  concerned,  each  bee  acts  as 
though  she  were  alone ;  but  all  make 
equal  use  of  the  gallery  that  conducts  to 
the  cells,  so  that  the  multitude  profit  by 
the  labours  of  an  individual,  and  are 
spared  the  time  and  trouble  required  for 
the  construction  of  separate  galleries.  It 
would  be  interesting  to  discover  whether 
397 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

this  preliminary  work  be  not  executed 
in  common,  by  relays  of  females,  reliev- 
ing each  other  in  turn." 

However  this  may  be,  the  fraternal  idea 
has  pierced  the  wall  that  divided  two 
worlds.  It  is  no  longer  wild  and  unrec- 
ognisable, wrested  from  instinct  by  cold 
and  hunger,  or  by  the  fear  of  death  ;  it  is 
prompted  by  active  life.  But  it  halts 
once  more;  and  in  this  instance  arrives 
no  further.  No  matter,  it  does  not  lose 
courage  ;  it  will  seek  other  channels.  It 
enters  the  humble-bee,  and,  maturing 
there,  becomes  embodied  in  a  different 
atmosphere,  and  works  its  first  decisive 
miracles. 


The  humble-bees,  the  great  hairy,  noisy 

creatures  that  all  of  us  know  so  well,  so 

harmless  for  all  their  apparent  fierceness, 

lead  a  solitary  life  at  first.     At  the  begin- 

398 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

ning  of  March  the  impregnated  female 
who  has  survived  the  winter  starts  to  con- 
struct her  nest,  either  underground  or  in 
a  bush,  according  to  the  species  to  which 
she  belongs.  She  is  alone  in  the  world, 
in  the  midst  of  awakening  spring.  She 
chooses  a  spot,  clears  it,  digs  it  and  car- 
pets it.  Then  she  erects  her  somewhat 
shapeless  waxen  cells,  stores  these  with 
honey  and  pollen,  lays  and  hatches  the 
eggs,  tends  and  nourishes  the  larvae  that 
spring  to  life,  and  soon  is  surrounded  by 
a  troop  of  daughters  who  aid  her  in  all 
her  labours,  within  the  nest  and  without, 
while  some  of  them  soon  begin  to  lay  in 
their  turn.  The  construction  of  the  cells 
improves ;  the  colony  grows,  the  comfort 
increases.  The  foundress  is  still  its  soul, 
its  principal  mother,  and  finds  herself 
now  at  the  head  of  a  kingdom  which 
might  be  the  model  of  that  of  our  honey- 
bee. But  the  model  is  still  in  the  rough. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

The  prosperity  of  the  humble-bees  never 
exceeds  a  certain  limit,  their  laws  are  ill- 
defined  and  ill-obeyed,  primitive  cannibal- 
ism and  infanticide  reappear  at  intervals, 
the  architecture  is  shapeless  and  entails 
much  waste  of  material  ;  but  the  cardinal 
difference  between  the  two  cities  is  that 
the  one  is  permanent,  and  the  other 
ephemeral.  For,  indeed,  that  of  the  hum- 
ble-bee will  perish  in  the  autumn ;  its 
three  or  four  hundred  inhabitants  will 
die,  leaving  no  trace  of  their  passage  or 
their  endeavours  ;  and  but  a  single  female 
will  survive,  who,  the  next  spring,  in  the 
same  solitude  and  poverty  as  her  mother 
before  her,  will  recommence  the  same  use- 
less work.  The  idea,  however,  has  now 
grown  aware  of  its  strength.  Among  the 
humble-bees  it  goes  no  further  than  we 
have  stated,  but,  faithful  to  its  habits  and 
pursuing  its  usual  routine,  it  will  im- 
mediately undergo  a  sort  of  unwearying 

400 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

metempsychosis,  and  re-incarnate  itself, 
trembling  with  its  last  triumph,  rendered 
%11-powerful  now  and  nearly  perfect,  in 
another  group,  the  last  but  one  of  the 
race,  that  which  immediately  precedes  our 
domestic  bee  wherein  it  attains  its  crown ; 
the  group  of  the  Meliponitae,  which 
comprises  the  tropical  Meliponae  and 
Trigonae. 

[108] 

Here  the  organisation  is  as  complete  as 
in  our  hives.  There  is  an  unique  mother, 
there  are  sterile  workers  and  males.  Cer- 
tain details  even  seem  better  devised.  The 
males,  for  instance,  are  not  wholly  idle  ; 
they  secrete  wax.  The  entrance  to  the 
hive  is  more  carefully  guarded ;  it  has  a 
door  that  can  be  closed  when  nights  are 
cold,  and  when  these  are  warm  a  kind  of 
curtain  will  admit  the  air. 

But  the  republic  is  less  strong,  general 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

life  less  assured,  prosperity  more  limited, 
than  with  our  bees ;  and  wherever  these 
are  introduced,  the  Meliponitse  tend  to 
disappear  before  them.  In  both  races 
the  fraternal  idea  has  undergone  equal 
and  magnificent  development,  save  in 
one  point  alone,  wherein  it  achieves  no 
further  advance  among  the  Meliponitae 
than  among  the  limited  offspring  of  the 
humble-bees.  In  the  mechanical  organ- 
isation of  distributed  labour,  in  the  pre- 
cise economy  of  effort ;  briefly,  in  the 
architecture  of  the  city,  they  display  man- 
ifest inferiority.  As  to  this  I  need  only 
refer  to  what  I  said  in  section  42  of  this 
book,  while  adding  that,  whereas  in  the 
hives  of  our  Apitae  all  the  cells  are  equally 
available  for  the  rearing  of  the  brood  and 
the  storage  of  provisions,  and  endure  as 
long  as  the  city  itself,  they  serve  only  one 
of  these  purposes  among  the  Meliponitae, 
and  the  cells  employed  as  cradles  for  the 

4P2 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

nymphs  are  destroyed  after  these  have 
been  hatched.1  It  is  in  our  domestic 
bees,  therefore,  that  the  idea,  of  whose 
movements  we  have  given  a  cursory  and 
incomplete  picture,  attains  its  most  per- 
fect form.  Are  these  movements  defi- 
nitely, and  for  all  time,  arrested  in  each 
one  of  these  species,  and  does  the  con- 
necting-line exist  in  our  imagination  alone  ? 
Let  us  not  be  too  eager  to  establish  a  sys- 
tem in  this  ill-explored  region.  Let  our 
conclusions  be  only  provisional,  and  prefer, 
entially  such  as  convey  the  utmost  hope, 

1  It  is  not  certain  that  the  principle  of  unique 
royalty,  or  maternity,  is  strictly  observed  among  the 
Meliponitae.  Blanchard  remarks  very  justly,  that  as 
they  possess  no  sting  and  are  consequently  less  readily 
able  than  the  mothers  of  our  own  bees  to  kill  each 
other,  several  queens  will  probably  live  together  in 
the  same  hive.  But  certainty  on  this  point  has  hitherto 
been  unattainable  owing  to  the  great  resemblance  that 
exists  between  queens  and  workers,  as  also  to  the  im- 
possibility of  rearing  the  Meliponitze  in  our  climate. 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

for,  were  a  choice  forced  upon  us,  occa- 
sional gleams  would  appear  to  declare 
that  the  inferences  we  are  most  desirous 
to  draw  will  prove  to  be  truest.  Besides, 
let  us  not  forget  that  our  ignorance  still  is 
profound.  We  are  only  learning  to  open 
our  eyes.  A  thousand  experiments  that 
could  be  made  have  as  yet  not  even  been 
tried.  If  the  Prosopes,  for  instance,  were 
imprisoned,  and  forced  to  cohabit  with 
their  kind,  would  they,  in  course  of  time, 
overstep  the  iron  barrier  of  total  solitude, 
and  be  satisfied  to  live  the  common  life 
of  the  Dasypodae,  or  to  put  forth  the  fra- 
ternal effort  of  the  Panurgi  ?  And  if  we 
imposed  abnormal  conditions  upon  the 
Panurgi,  would  these,  in  their  turn,  pro- 
gress from  a  general  corridor  to  general 
cells  ?  If  the  mothers  of  the  humble- 
bees  were  compelled  to  hibernate  together, 
would  they  arrive  at  a  mutual  understand- 
ing, a  mutual  division  of  labour  ?  Have 
404 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

combs  of  foundation-wax  been  offered  to 
the  Meliponitae  ?  Would  they  accept  them, 
would  they  make  use  of  them,  would  they 
conform  their  habits  to  this  unwonted 
architecture  ?  Questions,  these,  that  we 
put  to  very  tiny  creatures  ;  and  yet  they 
contain  the  great  word  of  our  greatest 
secrets.  We  cannot  answer  them,  for 
our  experience  dates  but  from  yesterday. 
Starting  with  Reaumur,  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years  have  elapsed  since  the 
habits  of  wild  bees  first  received  atten- 
tion. Reaumur  was  acquainted  with  only 
a  few  of  them ;  we  have  since  then  ob- 
served a  few  more  ;  but  hundreds,  thou- 
sands perhaps,  have  hitherto  been  noticed 
only  by  hasty  and  ignorant  travellers. 
The  habits  of  those  that  are  known  to 
us  have  undergone  no  change  since  the 
author  of  the  "  Memoirs  "  published  his 
valuable  work  ;  and  the  humble-bees,  all 
powdered  with  gold,  and  vibrant  as  the 
405 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 
sun's  delectable  murmur,  that  in  the  year 
I73°  gorged  themselves  with  honey  in 
the  gardens  of  Charenton,  were  absolutely 
identical  with  those  that  to-morrow,  when 
April  returns,  will  be  humming  in  the 
woods  of  Vincennes,  but  a  few  yards 
away.  From  Reaumur's  day  to  our  own, 
however,  is  but  as  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye ;  and  many  lives  of  menr  placed  end 
to  end,  form  but  a  second  in  the  history 
of  Nature's  thought. 

[  I09] 

Although  the  idea  that  our  eyes  have 
followed  attains  its  supreme  expression  in 
our  domestic  bees,  it  must  not  be  inferred 
therefrom  that  the  hive  reveals  no  faults. 
There  is  one  masterpiece,  the  hexagonal 
cell,  that  touches  absolute  perfection,  —  a 
perfection  that  all  the  geniuses  in  the 
world,  were  they  to  meet  in  conclave, 
could  in  no  way  enhance.  No  In  ing 
406 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

creature,  not  even  man,  has  achieved,  in 
the  centre  of  his  sphere,  what  the  bee  has 
achieved  in  her  own ;  and  were  some  one 
from  another  world  to  descend  and  ask 
of  the  earth  the  most  perfect  creation  of 
the  logic  of  life,  we  should  needs  have 
to  offer  the  humble  comb  of  honey. 

But  the  level  of  this  perfection  is  not 
maintained  throughout.  We  have  al- 
ready dealt  with  a  few  faults  and  short- 
comings, evident  sometimes  and  sometimes 
mysterious,  such  as  the  ruinous  super- 
abundance and  idleness  of  the  males, 
parthenogenesis,  the  perils  of  the  nuptial 
flight,  excessive  swarming,  the  absence  of 
pity,  and  the  almost  monstrous  sacrifice 
of  the  individual  to  society.  To  these 
must  be  added  a  strange  inclination  to 
store  enormous  masses  of  pollen,  far  in 
excess  of  their  needs ;  for  the  pollen, 
soon  turning  rancid,  and  hardening,  en- 
cumbers the  surface  of  the  comb  ;  and 

407 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

further,  the  long  sterile  interregnum  be- 
tween the  date  of  the  first  swarm  and  the 
impregnation  of  the  second  queen,  etc., 
etc. 

Of  these  faults  the  gravest,  the  onl) 
one  which  in  our  climates  is  invariably 
fatal,  is  the  repeated  swarming.  But  here 
we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  natural 
selection  of  the  domestic  bee  has  for 
thousands  of  years  been  thwarted  by  man. 
From  the  Egyptian  of  the  time  of  Pha- 
raoh to  the  peasant  of  our  own  day,  the 
bee-keeper  has  always  acted  in  opposition 
to  the  desires  and  advantages  of  the  race. 
The  most  prosperous  hives  are  those 
which  throw  only  one  swarm  after  the 
beginning  of  summer.  They  have  ful- 
filled their  maternal  duties,  assured  the 
maintenance  of  the  stock  and  the  neces- 
sary renewal  of  queens ;  they  have  guar- 
anteed the  future  of  the  swarm,  which , 
being  precocious  and  ample  in  numbersv 
408 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

has  time  to  erect  solid  and  well-stored 
dwellings  before  the  arrival  of  autumn. 
If  left  to  themselves,  it  is  clear  that  these 
hives  and  their  offshoots  would  have 
been  the  only  ones  to  survive  the  rigours 
of  winter,  which  would  almost  invariably 
have  destroyed  colonies  animated  by  dif- 
ferent instincts ;  and  the  law  of  restricted 
swarming  would  therefore  by  slow  de- 
grees have  established  itself  in  our  north- 
ern races.  But  it  is  precisely  these 
prudent,  opulent,  acclimatised  hives  that 
man  has  always  destroyed  in  order  to 
possess  himself  of  their  treasure.  Ha 
has  permitted  only  —  he  does  so  to  this 
day  in  ordinary  practice  —  the  feeblest 
colonies  to  survive ;  degenerate  stock, 
secondary  or  tertiary  swarms,  which  have 
just  barely  sufficient  food  to  subsist 
through  the  winter,  or  whose  miserable 
"tore  he  v/ill  supplement  perhaps  with  ft 
few  droppings  of  honey.  The  result  ii, 
409 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

probably,  that  the  race  has  grown  feebler, 
that  the  tendency  to  excessive  swarming 
has  been  hereditarily  developed,  and  that 
to-day  almost  all  our  bees,  particularly 
the  black  ones,  swarm  too  often.  For 
some  years  now  the  new  methods  of 
"movable"  apiculture  have  gone  some 
way  towards  correcting  this  dangerous 
habit ;  and  when  we  reflect  how  rapidly 
artificial  selection  acts  on  most  of  our 
domestic  animals,  such  as  oxen,  dogs, 
pigeons,  sheep  and  horses,  it  is  permissible 
to  believe  that  we  shall  before  long  have 
a  race  of  bees  that  will  entirely  renounce 
natural  swarming  and  devote  all  their  ac- 
tivity to  the  collection  of  honey  and 
pollen. 

[no] 

But  for  the  other  faults :  might  not  an 
intelligence  that  possessed  a  clearer  con- 
sciousness  of  the    aim   of  common   life 
410 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 
emancipate  itself  from  them  ?  Much 
might  be  said  concerning  these  faults, 
which  emanate  now  from  what  is  unknown 
to  us  in  the  hive,  now  from  swarming  and 
its  resultant  errors,  for  which  we  are 
partly  to  blame.  But  let  every  man 
judge  for  himself,  and,  having  seen  what 
has  gone  before,  let  him  grant  or  deny 
intelligence  to  the  bees,  as  he  may  think 
proper.  I  am  not  eager  to  defend  them. 
It  seems  to  me  that  in  many  circum- 
stances fhey  give  proof  of  understanding, 
but  my  curiosity  would  not  be  less  were 
all  that  they  do  done  blindly.  It  is 
interesting  to  watch  a  brain  possessed 
of  extraordinary  resources  within  itself 
wherewith  it  may  combat  cold  and 
hunger,  death,  time,  space,  and  solitude, 
all  the  enemies  of  matter  that  is  springing 
to  life ;  but  should  a  creature  succeed  in 
maintaining  its  little  profound  and  com" 
plicated  existence  without  overstepping 
411 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

the  boundaries  of  instinct,  without  doing 
anything  but  what  is  ordinary,  that  would 
be  very  interesting  too,  and  very  extraor- 
dinary. Restore  the  ordinary  and  the 
marvellous  to  their  veritable  place  in  the 
bosom  of  nature,  and  their  values  shift  ; 
one  equals  the  other.  We  find  that  their 
names  are  usurped  ;  and  that  it  is  not 
they,  but  the  things  we  cannot  under- 
stand or  explain  that  should  arrest  our 
attention,  refresh  our  activity,  and  give  a 
new  and  juster  form  to  our  thoughts  and 
feelings  and  words.  There  is  wisdom  in 
attaching  oneself  to  nought  beside, 


And  further,  our  intellect  is  not  the 
proper  tribunal  before  which  to  summon 
the  bees,  and  pass  their  faults  in  review. 
Do  we  not  find,  among  ourselves,  that 
consciousness  and  intellect  long  will  dwell 
in  the  midst  of  errors  and  faults  without 

412 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

perceiving  them,  longer  still  without  ef- 
fecting a  remedy  ?  If  a  being  exist  whom 
his  destiny  calls  upon  most  specially,  al- 
most organically,  to  live  and  to  organise 
common  life  in  accordance  with  pure  rea- 
son, that  being  is  man.  And  yet  see 
what  he  makes  of  it,  compare  the  mis- 
takes of  the  hive  with  those  of  our  own 
society.  How  should  we  marvel,  for 
instance,  were  we  bees  observing  men,  as 
we  noted  the  unjust,  illogical  distribution 
of  work  among  a  race  of  creatures  that  in 
other  directions  appear  to  manifest  eminent 
reason  !  We  should  find  the  earth's  sur- 
face, unique  source  of  all  common  life, 
insufficiently,  painfully  cultivated  by  two 
or  three  tenths  of  the  whole  population ; 
we  should  find  another  tenth  absolutely 
idle,  usurping  the  larger  share  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  this  first  labour ;  and  the  remain- 
ing seven-tenths  condemned  to  a  life  of 
perpetual  half-hunger,  ceaselessly  exhaust- 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

ing  themselves  in  strange  and  sterile  efforts 
whereby  they  never  shall  profit,  but  only 
shall  render  more  complex  and  more  in- 
explicable still  the  life  of  the  idle.  We 
should  conclude  that  the  reason  and 
moral  sense  of  these  beings  must  belong 
to  a  world  entirely  different  from  our  own, 
and  that  they  must  obey  principles  hope- 
lessly beyond  our  comprehension.  But 
let  us  carry  this  review  of  our  faults  no 
further.  They  are  always  present  in  our 
thoughts,  though  their  presence  achieves 
but  little.  From  century  to  century  only 
will  one  of  them  for  a  moment  shake  off 
its  slumber,  and  send  forth  a  bewildered 
cry  ;  stretch  the  aching  arm  that  supported 
its  head,  shift  its  position,  and  then  lie 
down  and  fall  asleep  once  more,  until  a 
new  pain,  born  of  the  dreary  fatigue  of 
repose,  awaken  it  afresh. 


414 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 
[I'M] 

The  evolution  of  the  Apiens,  or  at 
kast  of  the  Apitae,  being  admitted,  or 
regarded  as  more  probable  than  that  they 
should  have  remained  stationary,  let  us 
now  consider  the  general,  constant  direc- 
tion that  this  evolution  takes.  It  seems 
to  follow  the  same  roads  as  with  ourselves. 
It  tends  palpably  to  lessen  the  struggle, 
insecurity,  and  wretchedness  of  the  race, 
to  augment  authority  and  comfort,  and 
stimulate  favourable  chances.  To  this 
end  it  will  unhesitatingly  sacrifice  the  in- 
dividual, bestowing  general  strength  and 
happiness  in  exchange  for  the  illusory  and 
mournful  independence  of  solitude.  It  is 
as  though  Nature  were  of  the  opinion 
with  which  Thucydides  credits  Pericles: 
viz.,  that  individuals  are  happier  in  the 
bosom  of  a  prosperous  city,  even  though 
they  suffer  themselves,  than  when  indi- 
415 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

vidually  prospering  in  the  midst  of  a 
languishing  state.  It  protects  the  hard- 
working slave  in  the  powerful  city,  while 
those  who  have  no  duties,  whose  associa- 
tion is  only  precarious,  are  abandoned  to 
the  nameless,  formless  enemies  who  dwell 
in  the  minutes  of  time,  in  the  movements 
of  the  universe,  and  in  the  recesses  of 
space.  This  is  not  the  moment  to  dis- 
cuss the  scheme  of  nature,  or  to  ask 
ourselves  whether  it  would  be  well  for 
man  to  follow  it;  but  it  is  certain  that 
wherever  the  infinite  mass  allows  us  to 
seize  the  appearance  of  an  idea,  the  ap- 
pearance takes  this  road  whereof  we  know 
not  the  end.  Let  it  be  enough  that  we 
note  the  persistent  care  with  which  nature 
preserves,  and  fixes  in  the  evolving  race, 
all  that  has  been  won  from  the  hostile 
inertia  of  matter.  She  records  each  happy 
effort,  and  contrives  we  know  not  what 
special  and  benevolent  laws  to  counteract 
416 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

the  inevitable  recoil.  This  progress, 
whose  existence  among  the  most  intelli- 
gent species  can  scarcel/  be  denied,  has 
perhaps  no  aim  beyond  its  initial  impetus, 
and  knows  not  whither  it  goes.  But  at 
least,  in  a  world  where  nothing  save  a  few 
facts  of  this  kind  indicates  a  precise  will, 
it  is  significant  enough  that  we  should  see 
certain  creatures  rising  thus,  slowly  and 
continuously  ;  and  should  the  bees  have 
revealed  to  us  only  this  mysterious  spiral 
of  light  in  the  overpowering  darkness, 
that  were  enough  to  induce  us  not  to  re- 
gret the  time  we  have  given  to  their  little 
gestures  and  humble  habits,  which  seem 
so  far  away  and  are  yet  so  nearly  akin  to 
our  grand  passions  and  arrogant  destinies, 


It  may  be  that  these  things  are  all  vain  ; 
and  that  our  own  spiral  of  light,  no  less 
than  that  of  the  bees,  has  been  kindled  for 

2?  Al7 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

no  other  purpose  save  that  of  amusing  the 
darkness.  So,  too,  is  it  possible  that 
some  stupendous  incident  may  suddenly 
surge  from  without,  from  another  world, 
from  a  new  phenomenon,  and  either  in- 
form this  effort  with  definitive  meaning,  or 
definitively  destroy  it.  But  we  must  pro- 
ceed on  our  way  as  though  nothing  abnor- 
mal could  ever  befall  us.  Did  we  know 
that  to-morrow  some  revelation,  a  mes- 
sage, for  instance,  from  a  more  ancient, 
more  luminous  planet  than  ours,  were  to 
root  up  our  nature,  to  suppress  the  laws, 
the  passions,  and  radical  truths  of  our  being, 
our  wisest  plan  still  would  be  to  devote 
the  whole  of  to-day  to  the  study  of  these 
passions,  these  laws,  and  these  truths, 
which  must  blend  and  accord  in  our 
mind;  and  to  remain  faithful  to  the  des- 
tiny imposed  on  us,  which  is  to  subdue, 
and  to  some  extent  raise  within  and 
around  us  the  obscure  forces  of  life. 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

None  of  these,  perhaps,  will  survive  the 
new  revelation ;  but  the  soul  of  those  who 
shall  up  to  the  end  have  fulfilled  the  mis- 
sion that  is  pre-eminently  the  mission  of 
man,  must  inevitably  be  in  the  front  rank 
of  all  to  welcome  this  revelation ;  and 
should  they  learn  therefrom  that  indiffer- 
ence, or  resignation  to  the  unknown,  is 
the  veritable  duty,  they  will  be  better 
equipped  than  the  others  for  the  compre- 
hension of  this  final  resignation  and  in- 
difference, better  able  to  turn  these  to 
account. 

["4] 

But  such  speculations  may  well  be 
avoided.  Let  not  the  possibility  of  gen- 
eral annihilation  blur  our  perception  of 
the  task  before  us  ;  above  all,  let  us  not 
count  on  the  miraculous  aid  of  chance. 
Hitherto,  the  promises  of  our  imagina- 
tion notwithstanding,  we  have  always  been 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

left  to  ourselves,  to  our  own  resource*. 
It  is  to  our  humblest  efforts  that  every 
useful,  enduring  achievement  of  this  earth 
is  due.  It  is  open  to  us,  if  we  choose,  to 
await  the  better  or  worse  that  may  follow 
some  alien  accident,  but  on  condition  that 
such  expectation  shall  not  hinder  our 
human  task.  Here  again  do  the  bees, 
as  Nature  always,  provide  a  most  excel- 
lent lesson.  In  the  hive  there  has  truly 
been  prodigious  intervention.  The  bees 
are  in  the  hands  of  a  power  capable  of 
annihilating  or  modifying  their  race,  of 
transforming  their  destinies;  the  bees* 
thraldom  is  far  more  definite  than  out 
3wn.  Therefore  none  the  less  do  they 
perform  their  profound  and  primitive 
duty.  And,  among  them,  it  is  precisely 
those  whose  obedience  to  duty  is  most 
complete  who  are  able  most  fully  to 
profit  by  the  supernatural  intervention 
that  to-day  has  raised  the  destiny  of  theif 
420 


The  Progress  of  the  Race 

species.  And  indeed,  to  discover  the 
unconquerable  duty  of  a  being  is  less 
difficult  than  one  imagines.  It  is  ever 
to  be  read  in  the  distinguishing  organs, 
whereto  the  others  are  all  subordinate, 
And  just  as  it  is  written  in  the  tongue, 
the  stomach,  and  mouth  of  the  bee  that 
it  must  make  honey,  so  is  it  written  in 
our  eyes,  our  ears,  our  nerves,  our  mar- 
row, in  every  lobe  of  our  head,  that  we 
must  make  cerebral  substance ;  nor  is  there 
need  that  we  should  divine  the  purpose 
this  substance  shall  serve.  The  bees  know 
not  whether  they  will  eat  the  honey  they 
harvest,  as  we  know  not  who  it  is  shall 
reap  the  profit  of  the  cerebral  substance  we 
shall  have  formed,  or  of  the  intelligent  fluid 
that  issues  therefrom  and  spreads  over  the 
universe,  perishing  when  our  life  ceases 
or  persisting  after  our  death.  As  they 
go  from  flower  to  flower  collecting  more 
honey  than  themselves  and  their  offspring 
421 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

can  need,  let  us  go  from  reality  to  real- 
ity seeking  food  for  the  incomprehensi- 
ble flame,  and  thus,  certain  of  having 
fulfilled  our  organic  duty,  preparing  our- 
selves for  whatever  befall.  Let  us  nour- 
ish this  flame  on  our  feelings  and  passions, 
on  all  that  we  see  and  think,  that  we  hear 
and  touch,  on  its  own  essence,  which  is 
the  idea  it  derives  from  the  discoveries, 
experience  and  observation  that  result 
from  its  every  movement.  A  time  then 
will  come  when  all  things  will  turn  so 
naturally  to  good  in  a  spirit  that  has 
given  itself  to  the  loyal  desire  of  this  sim- 
ple human  duty,  that  the  very  suspicion 
of  the  possible  aimlessness  of  its  exhaust- 
ing effort  will  only  render  the  duty  the 
clearer,  will  only  add  more  purity,  power, 
disinterestedness,  and  freedom  to  the  ar- 
dour wherewith  it  still  seeks. 


422 


Appendix 


TO  give  a  complete   bibliography  of  the 
bee  were  outside  the  scope  of  this  book  ; 
we  shall  be  satisfied,  therefore,  merely  to  indi- 
cate the  more  interesting  works  :  — 

i.  The  Historical    Development  of  Apia- 
rian Science  : 

(a)  The  ancient  writers  :  Aristotle,  "  His- 
tory of  Animals  "  (Trans.  Bart.  St.  Hilaire) ; 
T.  Varro,  "  De  Agricultura,"  L.  III.  xvi. ; 
Pliny,  «  Hist.  Nat.,"  L.  xi.  ;  Columella,"  De 
Re  Rustica  ;  "   Palladius,  «  De  Re  Rustica," 
L.  I.  xxxvii.,  etc. 

(b)  The  moderns  :  Swammerdam,  "  Biblia 
Naturae,"  1737;  Maraldi,  "  Observations  sur 
les  Abeilles,"   1712;  Reaumur,  "  Memoires 
pour  servir  a  1'Histoire  des  Insectes,"  1740; 
Ch.  Bonnet,  "  CEuvres  d'Histoire  Naturelle," 
1779-1783  ;  A.  G.  Schirach,  "  Physikalischo 

423  . 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

Untersuchung  der  bisher  unbekannten  aber 
nachher  entdeckten  Erzeugung  der  Bienen- 
mutter,"  1767;  J.  Hunter,  "On  Bees" 
(Philosophical  Transactions,  1732);  J.  A. 
Janscha,  "  Hinterlassene  Vollstandige  Lehre 
von  der  Bienenzucht,"  1773;  Francois 
Huber,  "  Nouvelles  Observations  sur  les 
Abeilles,"  1794,  etc. 

2.   Practical  Apiculture  : 

Dzierzon,  "  Theorie  und  Praxis  des  neuen 
Bienenfreundes ;  "  Langstroth,  "  The  Honey- 
bee "  (translated  into  French  by  Ch.  Dadant : 
"  L'Abeille  et  la  Ruche,"  which  corrects  and 
completes  the  original) ;  Georges  de  Layens 
and  Bonnier,  "  Cours  Complet  d'Ap/cul- 
ture  ;  "  Frank  Cheshire,  "  Bees  and  Bee-keep- 
ing" (vol.  ii. — Practical);  Dr.E.Bevan,"The 
Honey-bee;"  T.  W.  Cowan,  "The  British 
Bee-keeper's  Guidebook;"  A.  Root,  "The 
A  B  C  of  Bee-Culture;"  Henry  Allen, 
"The  Bee-keeper's  Handy-book;"  L'Abbe 
Collin,  "  Guide  du  Proprietaire  des  Abeilles ;  " 
Ch.  Dadant,  "  Petit  Cours  d'Apiculture 
Pratique ; "  Ed.  Bertrand,  "  Conduite  du 
Rucher ;  "  Weber,  "  Manuel  pratique  d'Api- 
424 


Appendix 

culture;"  Hamet,  "Cours  Complet  d' Api- 
culture ;  "  De  Bauvoys,  "  Guide  de  1'Apicul- 
teur ; "  Pollmann,  "  Die  Biene  und  ihre 
Zucht ;  "  Jekei4,  Kramer,  and  Theiler,  "  Der 
Schweizerische  Bienenvater ;  "  S.  Simmins, 
"  A  Modern  Bee  Farm  ; "  F.  W.  Vogel, 
"  Die  Honigbiene  und  die  Vermehrung  der 
Bienvolker  ;  "  Baron  A.  Von  Berlepsch, 
"  Die  Biene  und  ihre  Frucht,"  etc. 

3.   General  Monographs: 

F.  Cheshire,  "  Bees  and  Bee-keeping" 
(vol.  i.  — Scientific);  T.  W.  Cowan,  "The 
Honey-bee  ;  "  J.  Perez,  "  Les  Abeilles  ;  " 
Girard,  "Manuel  d' Apiculture"  (Les  Abeilles, 
Organes  et  Fonctions)  ;  Schuckard,  "  British 
Bees ;  "  Kirby  and  Spence,  "  Introduction  to 
Entomology ;  "  Girdwoyn,  "  Anatomic  et 
Physiologic  de  1'Abeille;"  F.  Cheshire, 
"  Diagrams  on  the  Anatomy  of  the  Honey- 
bee ; "  Gunderach,  "  Die  Naturgeschichte 
der  Honigbiene ;  "  L.  Buchner,  "  Geistes- 
leben  der  Thiere ;  "  O.  Butschli,  "  Zur  Ent- 
wicklungsgeschichte  der  Biene  ;  "  J.  D. 
Haviland,  "The  Social  Instincts  of  Bees, 
their  Origin  and  Natural  Selection." 

42S 


The  Life  of  the  Bee 

4.    Special    Monographs    (Organs,    Func- 
tions, Undertakings,  etc.) : 

F.  Dujardin,  "  Memoires  sur  le  Systeme 
nerveux  des  Insectes ; "  Dumas  and  Milne 
Edwards,  "  Sur  la  Production  de  la  Cire  des 
Abeilles;"  E.  Blanchard,  "  Recherches  ana- 
tomiques  sur  le  Systeme  nerveux  des  Insectes;" 
L.  R.  D.  Brougham,  "  Observations,  Demon- 
strations, and  Experiences  upon  the  Structure 
of  the  Cells  of  Bees; "  P.  Cameron,  "  On  Par- 
thenogenesis in  the  Hymenoptera"  (Trans- 
actions Natural  Society  of  Glasgow,  1888); 
Erichson,  "  De  Fabrica  et  Usu  Antennarum  in 
Insectis ; "  B.  T.  Lowne,  "  On  the  Simple 
and  Compound  Eyes  of  Insects  "  (Philosophi- 
cal Transactions,  1879);  G.  K.  Waterhouse, 
"  On  the  Formation  of  the  Cells  of  Bees  and 
Wasps  ;  "  Dr.  C.  T.  E.  von  Siebold,  «  On  a 
True  Parthenogenesis  in  Moths  and  Bees  ;  " 
F.  Leydig,  "  Das  Auge  der  Gliederthiere  ; " 
Pastor  Schonfeld,  "  Bienen-Zeitung,"  1854- 
1883;  "  Illustrierte  Bienen-Zeitung,"  1885- 
1890;  Assmuss,  "Die  Parasiten  der  Honig- 
biene." 


426 


Appendix 
5.   Notes  on  Melliferous  Hymenoptera : 

E.  Blanchard,  "  Metamorphoses,  Moeurs  et 
Instincts  des  Insectes ;  "  Vid  :  "  Histoire  des 
Insectes ;  "  Darwin,  "  Origin  of  Species ; " 
Fabre,  "  Souvenirs  Entomologiques  "  (3d 
series) ;  Romanes,  "  Mental  Evolution  in 
Animals  ;  "  id.,  "  Animal  Intelligence  ;  " 
Lepeletier  et  Fargeau,  "  Histoire  Naturelle 
des  Hymenopteres  ;  "  V.  Mayet,  "  Memoire 
sur  les  Moeurs  et  sur  les  Metamorphoses  d'une 
Nouvelle  Espece  de  la  Famille  des  Vesicants  " 
(Ann.  Soc.  Entom.  de  France,  1875) ;  H.  Mul- 
ler,  "Ein  Beitrag  zur  Lebensgeschichte  der 
DasypodaHirtipes;"  E.  HofFer,  "Biologische 
Beobachtungen  an  Hummeln  und  Schmarot- 
zerhummeln ;  "  Jesse,  "  Gleanings  in  Natural 
History  ;  "  Sir  John  Lubbock,  "  Ants,  Bees, 
and  Wasps ;  "  id.,  "  The  Senses,  Instincts,  and 
Intelligence  of  Animals ;  "  Walkenaer,  "  Les 
Haclites ;  "  Westwood,  "  Introduction  to  the 
Study  of  Insects  ;  "  V.  Rendu,  "  De  1'Intelli- 
gence  des  Betes  ;  "  Espinas,  "  Animal  Com- 
munities," etc. 


427 


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